Distorted Fairy Tale
by Xagzan
Summary: Tsukune has been captured by Akuha, Moka's eldest sister and member of the ominous Fairy Tale. Waking in a quiet, dark room, what awaits Tsukune within the sinister vampiress' clutches? Just what are her intentions? TsukunexAkuha, rated M for Mature.
1. For Want of a Sister

Hey folks, long time no see. Just popping in here with the (possible) start of a new fic I'm doing, inspired by reading too much Rosario+Vampire. Not much to say here, except for those who have read the manga themselves, this story starts off as an alternate end to Season II, chapter 36, if Touhou Fuhai hadn't shown up when he did and Akuha found Tsukune, Moka and co. Speaking of which, though I personally prefer spelling her name as "Aqua," this fic is mostly for readers and fans of the series, and "Akuha" is the usual fan spelling in English. So that's just a little fun fact, and chapter 37 onwards never happened as far as this story is concerned.

What else... Well nothing much else here, except that oh, disclaimer! Ahem, I do not own Rosario+Vampire in any way, the series and all the sexy monster girls in it belong to Akihisa Ikeda.

I hope you enjoy and I'll see you at the bottom!

**For Want of a Sister**

"_Tsukune!"_

"…ngh"

"_Tsukune, wake up, please!"_

"M…Moka..?"

Tsukune roused slowly. His body shivered, fighting to shake off the dark stupor of unconsciousness that had just enveloped him for the last…well, it had to have been some hours at least. His mind still in lazy stasis, his eyes struggled to pry themselves open. But it was no use. All Tsukune could register was the deep blackness before him. And a tiny, prickly chill nipping at his face, gradually waking him enough to allow the most basic of thoughts to enter his mind.

What had happened? It seemed so long since he could remember not feeling like he was in a dream.

_No, not a dream._

It was more like a nightmare. Slowly but surely, it was coming back to him. They had finally arrived in China—he, Moka, and the other girls—after their harrowing plane adventure. They had been graciously received by the Wong family, Fong Fong's parents, and invited to stay at their mansion. Shortly thereafter, Touhou Fuhai, one of the three great Dark Lords, had examined Moka's seal and came up with a method to fix the damage it had sustained.

That was where the horror had truly begun.

Tsukune, Mizore and Touhou Fuhai had been mistakenly absorbed into Moka's soul, a world of her memories. It was there that Tsukune soon witnessed the tragic truth: the truth of Moka watching her sister Akuha slice her mother, Akasha Bloodriver, in two; the truth of Akasha giving her life to save Moka from the recently awakened demon Alucard; and worst of all for him, the truth that the girl he had met upon first arriving to Youkai Academy, the girl he had so easily fallen for before he had even realized it, was just a fake personality created by the rosary Akasha had given to Moka, to seal away her power and allow her to live a normal life.

That had been the last straw. His heart broken, he had succumbed to the sky-engulfing darkness that had swept away Moka's shattered world of memories. He had felt lost in that chaotic river of Moka's soul for an eternity. But eventually, he had come upon a sobbing Moka, and had managed to confess his feelings to her back, although he wasn't sure he had heard her. It was at that moment, he remembered now, that a bright light had burst forth from the girl, swallowing Tsukune's own consciousness, delivering him into oblivion…

And now, he found himself here. Wherever 'here' was. His eyes still hadn't managed to get themselves open, since his vision was still nothing but darkness. Except…for a faint glow of light across from him, that looked like it was coming from behind a barely opened door.

_But that means, my eyes really are open… Then, why is this room so dark? Where am I?_

Suddenly he remembered, the last voice he had heard just a few minutes ago inside his head.

"Moka!" He screamed. Or at least, tried to scream. His throat wasn't too keen on producing sounds after a while of inactivity, so what came out was more of a ragged whisper, barely audible even to himself. His head bowed down, he tried to get some air into his lungs. That's right, he realized, it was only a voice inside his head he'd heard. Moka's voice, but his imagination nonetheless. Tsukune exhaled. His body felt heavy. His arms, too.

_Why can't I move them?_

Coming more to his senses, Tsukune realized his arms were spread out perpendicular from his body. He tried to bring them down to rest at his sides, but something was stopping them. He flexed his wrists and immediately felt the warm texture of leather binding them to…something. Some hard surface. What it was he wasn't sure. But it wasn't reassuring. What's more, even though it felt like he was standing straight, his feet weren't touching the floor.

_What's going on?_

Moistening his lips and gently clearing his throat, he tried speaking again. "Hello?" he called out, louder this time. "Hello, is anybody there?"

He let his words hang in the air a few seconds. Strangely, he thought he heard a quiet muffled sound in response, something like a light moan, but it quickly disappeared, leaving him in silence once again.

He waited a moment for another answer. Anything. But no sound came.

"Hey!" he shouted as loud as his throat would allow. He didn't expect to suddenly get an answer this time, but then—

"Aiya~, you're awake, are you?"

Tsukune froze. Why he froze he wasn't certain. There was something about that voice. Not just that it was a chilling voice that suggested a sadistically frightening owner, but there was something familiar about it. Tsukune tried to think, quickly digging through his memories as he heard footsteps approaching from some direction. Where had he heard this voice before? He could swear he had. It was definitely a woman's voice. But his thoughts were interrupted by the faint light he had seen earlier expanding, growing larger and larger, until the light from within streamed out fiercely, forcing Tsukune's eyes shut once more. He barely got them open again a moment later, and this time he saw a shadowy figure approaching him, heard the sound of her bare feet on the floor. A soft 'click' later and the ceiling lamp was switched on, dim though it was. Dim enough for Tsukune's eyes not to be overwhelmed again, and allowing him a look at the person in front of him.

What he saw was the last thing he'd have hoped for. It was a young woman, alright. An exceptionally pretty one at that, with wild black hair streaming past her pale neck, partly pulled up in subtle pigtails, two white strands dangling in front of her vampiric red eyes. She was wearing a black China dress spattered with red roses towards the bottom, with slits in the sides of the garment that exposed the entire sides of her bare legs and hips. And surprisingly, she didn't look much different than she had in Moka's memories. None of that really mattered to Tsukune at the moment, however, as the growing knot in his stomach robbed him of the ability to truly notice.

"Y-You!" he gasped, the memories from Moka's soul now catching up with him with the impact of a bullet train. "You're—from Moka's memories. You're Akuha, Moka's sister!"

A smile flitted across her face. A disarmingly innocent smile, though anyone who knew of her would know better. Tsukune knew better.

"So, you know about me, hm? I suppose I don't need to waste time with introductions then." She moved closer to him. "Now, whatever am I going to do with you, little Tsukune?"

The boy's eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"

"That little witch told me about you," she replied, casually flicking the hair before her face. "She told me a few things, at that."

"Witch..?" he repeated. Then he remembered. "Yukari!" She had been watching over their bodies while they slept, along with Fong Fong and Ling Ling.

"Where's Yukari? Where are the others? Where is Moka?" he demanded.

"Hmph, you're not really in a position to use that tone with me, boy," she snorted. "In case you hadn't noticed, you're my prisoner. Take a look," she gestured towards him.

Tsukune glanced down. To his shock, he had been stripped entirely naked. Well, almost. Akuha had been gracious enough, as much as you could ever call her gracious, to leave his underpants on, whether for modesty or sport he didn't know. Now that he could see clearly in the soft light, he looked to his sides, as well. He was once more dismayed to find he was bound to a large wooden cross, arms outspread, feet tied together.

Gritting his teeth, Tsukune turned back to his amused captor. "What the hell is going on?" he growled, trying to sound braver than he currently felt. "What have you done with my friends?"

Akuha sighed, obviously annoyed at the constant interrogation. "Fine, I guess I can indulge your questions, little Tsukune, since they'll be the last you ever get." Tsukune gulped nervously at the threat, although he couldn't help being annoyed at the 'little' she kept adding to his name. Wasn't she only about four years older than him? He wasn't little, and hearing her address him as such was kind of irritating. When he told her all this, she raised her eyebrow at him before giggling. "Oh, that's precious," she snickered. "You shouldn't be wasting our time with boring stuff like that. The thing is, as a human, you are so far below me in terms of power, ability and…everything, really, I can't help but see you like I would a little doggie. Compared to me, you're very weak and small, _little Tsukune_. It's got nothing to do with age." Tsukune blinked; the way she explained it made it so demeaning, he almost wished it _was _an age related insult.

"As for your friends," she went on, going back to his question, "I have no interest in them. The succubus and yuki-onna are sleeping back at the Wong mansion. I had to subdue the witch—Yukari, was it? And the Wong siblings are most likely dead," she shrugged. "Too bad, really. I don't actually like spilling blood, you know."

"You monster…" Tsukune's voice trembled.

Akuha affected a pout, looking offended. "I'm not so bad, you know," she chuckled. "I spared most of them, didn't I?"

Tsukune lowered his gaze, biting his lip hard enough to almost draw blood.

"What have you done…to Moka..?"

The hurt that now crossed the woman's features was more sincere. "What? Are you implying that—? I could never hurt my beloved sister Moka! What kind of person do you think I am?"

Even though Tsukune sensed that she believed what she said, he couldn't help but scoff. "Yeah, right. I've seen what you've done. I know what you're capable of, even when it comes to your family."

Akuha frowned and slipped herself a hair's breath away from her prisoner. "You've got me all wrong. I want nothing but the best for Moka, to protect her from the deep darkness inside of her. You do know, don't you?" At this she leaned in too close for comfort, practically whispering in Tsukune's ear. "That Shinso blood of hers. The trigger that awakens Alucard. Not to mention…those painful memories of her mother's death, locked away inside her. I'm sure you saw all that in her memories, right?"

Tsukune scowled. He wasn't comfortable with her being this close at all. Her face was right next to his, so near that her smooth shoulder was inches from his face. Tsukune wanted to be repulsed, but he had to admit, hers was far from a bad scent. His sense of smell had always been keen, even more so after being injected with Moka's blood, and now he could practically taste Akuha's vanilla-scented skin on the back of his tongue. But he quickly fought to brush those thoughts out of his mind. He recognized the truth in her words—he had seen those things himself. Still, he didn't like it.

"What're you saying?" he asked quietly, avoiding her gaze as she pulled her head back. Akuha gave him a pitiful smile. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek in her cool hand. Tsukune winced when she suddenly punctured his flesh with her nails, but she ignored his discomfort. It was a tiny prick anyway.

"You silly boy," she crooned, gently rubbing the blood from his face. "Do you think someone as insignificant as you could protect my Moka from such danger?"

"Like you can?" he shot back. "You're the one who almost got her killed by that monster!"

SLAP

Tsukune tried to move his hand to cover the spot on his face she had just hit, but was reminded that his arms were bound. He imagined there was now a large red mark on his face, however. Hesitantly, he turned back to her. Akuha's eyes had narrowed dangerously into a glare. Tsukune was surprised to find that her voice shook with anger and, to his surprise, what sounded like pain.

"How _dare _you," she hissed. "What happened in the past is absolutely _none _of your filthy business." Akuha backed away from her hostage, turning her back on him. Tsukune grimaced, slowly growing to dislike Moka's sister more and more by the minute. He was trying to ignore the fact that she was related to the girl he loved. After all, what she'd done was horrendous. Even if she sounded regretful, it didn't change anything, he thought to himself.

After taking a moment to regain her composure, Akuha whirled back around. "Well," she continued, a deadly calm in her voice, "those subjects are not a human's concern. Besides…I have some questions of my own for you, little Tsukune."

Before he knew what had happened, Tsukune found the cross he was attached to falling backwards, landing with a loud thud onto the hard floor behind him, sending a wave of pain through his body. Akuha had used her Jigentou to slice away the bottom of the cross, below Tsukune's feet, collapsing it. With speed befitting her fearsome reputation, and to Tsukune's embarrassment, she mounted him. Instantly, Tsukune felt her lower regions rub against his briefs as she settled on him. He thanked the darkness of the room, or else she would've seen the immense and unwanted blush that spread across his cheeks. Although, with her powerful eyes, she probably noticed it anyway. Her smirk upon peering down at him wasn't reassuring. Tsukune was just grateful that his fear of the situation had for now kept certain things from 'rising.' He didn't know what she wanted, but he didn't feel it was something to get excited about.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Hm-hmm. Remember what I said earlier? That witch Yukari told me some interesting things."

"W-What things?" he replied. What could she possibly be talking about?

The playful grin on Akuha's face vanished. "Things about my darling Moka…and a certain Tsukune Aono."

Tsukune swallowed. He realized from watching her, both in past and present, that the eldest Shuzen girl was lethally protective of and possibly obsessed with her younger sister. Any word that Tsukune had feelings for Moka that made it to her ears would surely make him a very unfortunate human. Whether or not Yukari knew this, what could she have said?

"I…don't know what you're talking about," he tried to lie. But she wasn't biting.

"Oh! Oh! Don't move them! They haven't come back yet! Tsukune's trying to rescue Moka, he needs her more than anything! He needs her to bring together the worlds of humans and ayashi! That's their dream!" she laughed, doing her best high-pitched Yukari impression. "Now then," she went on, bringing her head down to Tsukune's, "whatever could she have meant by that?"

_Don't say anything… _Tsukune thought to himself. Akuha's eyes felt like they were burning a hole in his skull. _She attacked Moka's own mother right before her eyes. She won't hesitate to finish me off either. _Still, even though he felt terrified in her presence, a tiny part of his mind acknowledged that, sadism aside, there was a very attractive female on top of him. He barely noticed this thought, though, as he continued to stare up firmly at the vampiress.

Akuha was getting impatient at the boy's silence. "No answer? What a shame." She sat up again and pressed her fingertips against Tsukune's bicep. He cried out in pain as the flesh ripped under her touch, leaving a throbbing gash on his arm. Akuha looked at the blood that had gotten on her hand with obvious disgust, then wiped it off on Tsukune's bare chest. Tracing his muscles, the woman hummed with something like appreciation, unexpectedly. "Well, I'll give you one thing. You have quite a fit body, little Tsukune." Unconsciously, her tongue darted out across her lips before Tsukune could blink. Her hand moved again, this time to his other arm. Tsukune braced himself in preparation for another Jigentou stabbing, feeling her cold fingers pressing down on skin and muscle. "So tell me," she said, "what are you to Moka?" She pressed down slightly, just nicking Tsukune's skin. "Speak," she ordered, "or this time I won't make so shallow a cut."

_This one was shallow? _

"I..I don't know," he stammered. "I don't know what she feels about me." That was a half-truth. His feelings aside, he still wasn't certain that Moka saw him the same way. Of course, he had a strong suspicion she might; he wasn't so ignorant of the way she was around him, or the way she looked at him. And it couldn't count for nothing that she had given him her blood to save his life. But he would not be telling that to Akuha.

"And I suppose you want her yourself?" she asked, almost like she knew the answer already.

Tsukune paused. He knew that answer, too: it was a definite yes. He had even just confessed to Moka…sort of, when he was lost in her soul. She may not have received the message, but at the very least, it meant he had admitted his love for her to himself, too. Again, though, he was hesitant about saying anything like that to Akuha. Whatever her reaction might be to hearing it, it couldn't be good.

Instead, he went for a lie again. "We're friends," he said, forcing himself to stay calm. "We met at school and we've been friends ever since."

Akuha pursed her lips, studying the boy's face from the saddle of his lap. Tsukune couldn't keep her powerful gaze, and turned his eyes aside, aware that he was sweating nervously.

"You're lying," her cold voice reached his ears, "and pretty badly, at that."

Tsukune made to turn back to her. "I'm not ly—AAGGGGHHHH!"

In an instant Akuha had whipped her arm across her body, cutting into Tsukune's stomach. He snapped his head back in agony, a rest mist covering his eyes, feeling like a hammer had been taken to his temple and a knife to his gut. His blood splashed out into the air, some of it getting on Akuha's dress, covering the red rose designs with another layer of crimson.

"Hmph," she grunted after a moment, ignoring his desperate gasping, "You've gotten your lowly human blood on me. How rude."

Tsukune huffed underneath her, wishing his hands were free to hold his burning stomach.

"Calm down," she said dismissively. "It's not a serious wound. You'll live…for now."

Tsukune couldn't see her past the pain, but he glared in her direction all the same, breathing shallowly. It was now that she decided to dismount him, but he barely noticed. He felt his consciousness slipping. Only faintly did he hear her footsteps walking away from him, as he fell further and further back into oblivion.

…..

…..

What's this…it's soft…?

Tsukune's eyes shot open. Unlike before, he could see clearly right away. He was lying down again, except this time on a small bed. Taking a moment to gather his senses, he sat up to check his surroundings, but a sharp jolt of pain in his abdomen forced him back down. Tsukune grit his teeth and reached down to his stomach, where he touched what felt like bandages wrapped around him.

_That's right. That demon woman tried to kill me._

Tsukune went over the recent events in his head. It was all too much to take in. Just a while ago, his heart had been broken when he learned Outer Moka was just a fake personality. He had barely made it out of the darkness alive (in fact, he still didn't know how he did it). And now, the Shuzen sister he had seen in Moka's memories, the monstrously strong child who could stick her fingers through a person's skull like it was pudding…he was completely at her mercy. Assuming she had any to spare. Already she had ensured the birth of a new scar on his torso to accompany the others, and who knew what more she had in store for him? With any luck, he figured, he'd get out this alive and with most of his body intact. But he wasn't betting on it. Especially now that he discovered a collar around his neck, with leash attached.

Why was she like this, he mused. How could someone related to Moka, whether Inner or Outer, be such a cruel person? They were blood relatives, weren't they? They did have the same father. Tsukune had seen in Moka's soul the motives behind Akuha's actions back then: to get the blood of a Shinso from Akasha and use its power to emulate her ancestor Alucard and destroy the world of the humans she detested. Small wonder she was subjecting him to bloody torture. But what was she after this time? Had her goal changed any? "Damn it…" he groaned, "What's going on here?" He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. "I wonder where Moka is… I hope she's safe…"

"I thought I told you…"

The sudden voice made Tsukune's eyes snap open and brought his attention back to the present. Entering the bedchamber was, to his dismay, Akuha. She hadn't changed her clothes, although, his blood that had sprayed on her dress seemed to have dried. Interestingly she didn't seem too upset about the garment being stained.

"…that I would never let anything happen to my beautiful Moka ever again," she finished, closing the door behind her and seating herself on the edge of the bed, flashing Tsukune a surprisingly sincere smile. How could she look so happy after so casually causing his near-death, he wondered.

"What do you want," he asked, hoarse. "Why are you doing this?"

"Couldn't let you go dying just yet," she said, motioning to the wrapped wound, "not before I get what I want. Although it seems like I might've cut a little too deep…" she mused softly. "I didn't expect you to pass out so easily."

Tsukune blinked. He sensed some small amount of genuine regret in her words, and wondered if that was her attempt at an actual apology. Still, he knew it was most likely that any regret she felt here was for almost losing him as a chew toy, rather than concern for his well-being.

"Let's cut to the chase, little Tsukune," she interjected into his thoughts. Her face had lost the smile. "I know that you have a strong connection with my sister—pretty arrogant for a human don't you think? And I have a sneaking suspicion that she's taken a shine to you, too. You, a creature no more than a sewer rat next to her. Why? I don't know. But I'll tell you this," she frowned, "I don't like it, Tsukune. I don't like it one little bit."

Ignoring her insults, Tsukune tried to steel his nerves once more. "You're wrong," he protested, "Moka doesn't like me like that. Why do you say such a thing?"

"Don't insult my intelligence!" she snapped angrily, her eyes flaring up. "Do you really think I'm such a simple idiot? Do you honestly believe that in these past many years, I wouldn't have researched that seal Akasha gave to her daughter?"

Tsukune was lost, unsure of what she meant. She noted his confusion and continued. "I know allll about it. Most importantly, I know that when Akasha gave that thing to Moka, one of its properties was that it could only be removed by someone who cared about Moka. Her…_destined _one." She said that word with obvious disgust, as if she couldn't stand the thought of someone else being her dear Moka's chosen or destined companion. It almost sounded like she was offended. "As if anyone but me could take care of her like she deserves."

To Tsukune's bewilderment, the faintest blush crept up onto Akuha's cheeks as she said this.

What's with this girl?

"Anyway," Akuha cleared her throat, "what I'm getting at is, the Moka I just saw is her original self. Which means the seal was removed. And from the tiny witch's words, I'm guessing it was you who did it." Tsukune remained silent.

"But, what in the world could my Moka see in a lowly beast like you? How could she have such a connection with you?"

Tsukune glared at her in response. In his mind, he was trying to resist the hate he was developing for his captor. His fondest wish was for humans and ayashi to get along peacefully, but how could that ever happen if he came to despise the very sister of the one most important to him?

Suddenly, Akuha moved. She crawled her way up the bed, closer to Tsukune. He was thankful his arms were free this time, and he raised them up as a protective shield, knowing she could still just remove them from his elbows if she wished.

Instead, she just chuckled at him. "I am so curious," she said, reaching his body, "that it actually makes me tolerate being close to something like you." Sitting up next to him, she put her fingers to her chin and raised her eyes to the ceiling. "I haven't seen Moka in ages, and I haven't gotten around to asking her yet, either. So you tell me," she demanded, jabbing her finger into his bandage, eliciting a grimace from him, "what did you do to Moka to enchant her so?"

Tsukune couldn't respond. He was still taking in what she had said. Was he really Moka's chosen partner? True, he had heard Akasha herself explain the concept of Moka's special person, and he was obviously the only one who could remove the rosary, but he hadn't paid it much attention in the chaos of the situation. Now it was being presented to him plainly and clearly, and it sent his mind into a tizzy. What he was hearing, it meant she felt the same way he did, right?

Akuha reached over and gave his leash a tug. "I'm getting impatient," she warned.

"Moka…I'm her destined one..?" he asked.

Unfortunately, Akuha didn't like the hopeful look that crossed Tsukune's face. Her eyes deadened. He didn't notice until it was too late, but Akuha had sliced her arm across one line of the X-shaped scar on his torso, splitting the skin. It wasn't nearly as deep as her last cut—she didn't want him passing out this time—but it still stung terribly. Tsukune bit his lip hard, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of hearing him in pain again.

"Aww, does it hurt?" she teased while he squirmed. All too casually, she took some of his blood on her hand and smeared it across his chest. Then, thinking nothing of it, she brought her fingers up to her face, and her small tongue dashed out to lick the remnants of the blood off.

The effect was not something she had planned.

She paused, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Tsukune expected her to suddenly realize she'd tasted the blood of a human and vomit, before blaming him for tricking her somehow and reaching into his chest to rip his heart out. But she showed no sign of doing that. Instead, she smacked her lips a few times, prolonging the taste in her mouth, looking like she was considering something.

"Interesting…" she finally said. "That taste… How can a human's blood be so…good? So delicious?"

Tsukune stared. "Ehhh…huh?"

Akuha licked her lips for a moment then let out a soft moan. For a brief second Tsukune's fear was replaced by a small lust at the sound. The girl's crimson eyes were closed in rapture, and when she opened them again they were fixed on her captive. "Let me guess, has Moka ever tasted your blood, little Tsukune?"

He nodded despite himself, thinking back to the first time Moka had chewed his neck for her new favorite treat.

Akuha hummed. "I think I have my answer then. Your blood is so good, Moka couldn't help getting addicted to it, right? That's why she likes you so much, isn't it?" She didn't mention it, but something else she had noticed was that the taste of his blood was somewhat familiar. Why, she wasn't sure, but she had the oddest feeling of recognition when she tasted it.

In any case, she certainly sounded happy at seemingly discovering the answer to her original question herself. But Tsukune protested, "W-What? No way, that's ridiculous! I'm not making Moka stay with me using my blood!"

Akuha ignored him. She picked up his leash and twirled it absent-mindedly around her fingers, almost forgetting he was even there. "Hmm, now the question is, what to do?" she mused. She could just bleed him dry right now, she thought to herself, so there'd be nothing for her darling Moka to be hooked on. On the other hand, she had really enjoyed that free sample. It was shocking how good it was. Lowly human or not, it would be a shame to waste all that tasty blood.

Another realization popped into her head then. If that one bodily fluid was so enjoyable, how much so would be another type, drained from a place lower down on Tsukune's body? After all, the rush from the battle earlier and from seeing Moka again had got Akuha excited, leaving her with an itch below her waist. Why not give this boy the honor of scratching it? He could always be disposed of later. She smirked triumphantly. This might just be fun after all. Already she was pleased at the new plan taking shape in her head.

"I've decided," she announced.

"On what?"

She paused and looked him dead in the eye. "I'm going to get some more of that scrumptious blood of yours, and then, we're going to have a little fun."

"…"

Tsukune didn't understand, although he was still nervous at the ideas her words put in his head. "What? What do you mean fun?" he asked. Was she going to bite him some more, drain his neck of all its fluid until he was a corpse?

Akuha grinned and leaned in slightly towards him, wrapping the leash around her hand until she had yanked him the rest of the distance, bringing their faces an inch apart. "You disgust me, you know," she said, a gleam in her eyes, "And yet, that blood of yours. Sooo yummy. It's…stimulating."

Tsukune had no words for that. From their position, he was unable to escape her grip and trapped within her piercing gaze. On the other hand, terrified as he was, he couldn't help but take note that she was, if he was honest with himself, pretty cute in her own way. Well, she was Moka's sister after all, and Kahlua and Kokoa were also quite attractive; it must run in the family. But still, that didn't mean he wanted to see what her idea of "fun" was, whatever she meant by that.

"So you see," she continued, moving back and seating herself on his lap, "Hooking my Moka on your blood like that, and even making me crave it after one drop, that sort of evil deserves some punishment, no?"

Tsukune gulped as she let the leash loose and began lazily dragging her finger over his bare chest. Akuha was a little surprised to find the blood flow from his scar has mostly stopped already. How did that happen? Humans definitely didn't heal that fast, even if it was a relatively light cut like this one. Under her gaze, the wound steadily healed more and more, the blood drying against the flesh around the cut, the sliced skin sealing itself back together; soon enough, no more blood escaped and Tsukune's chest was back to sporting the same old X-shaped scar he had had for some time now.

_What the hell? _Akuha was puzzled. Tsukune was looking up at her, his breath short. How was it possible that he healed already?

…

…Unless…something about his blood had changed. She frowned. If that was the case, then that meant something had caused his blood to be different. Something like—But no! That was impossible! Surely there was no way that he—no way that Moka would—

"Did you…" she gasped, comprehension dawning on her, "Did Moka ever give you…her blood?"

Tsukune knew by now she could see through any of his attempts at lying and averted his eyes, staying silent while he nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I can't believe it…" she uttered. "She gave it…to such a pathetic creature…" She looked shocked, horrified even. But that soon changed in a disturbingly quick moment as a furious hunger came to her eyes. Her gaze was now fixated on Tsukune's neck; and unconsciously or not, her fangs began to descend as well. At that moment her voice lowered to a whisper.

"It's mine…"

Then without hesitation Akuha lunged forward and before Tsukune could do anything, latched her teeth onto his neck.

He gasped, mostly out of shock. It wasn't that earth-shatteringly painful, especially since he had grown used to Moka's teeth breaking his skin. This was harder, but still tolerable. She sucked for several long moments, perched atop her 'meal'. "S-Stop it, please," Tsukune protested after finding his voice. Akuha withdrew her mouth from his neck and looked at him. He saw his blood coating her lips, her tongue dashing out to gather it all into her mouth, and caught a glimpse of her vampire fangs: definitely longer than Moka's.

"Mmmm…" Akuha moaned, visibly swallowing her treat. Tsukune gulped. A small guilt arose in him as he realized he found the sight just a little erotic. It didn't help that she slowly dragged her finger from her lips down to between her breasts, fingertips gliding along the soft fabric of the dress, her eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. "So good…"

Watching her, Tsukune suddenly felt something. Something possibly even more unwelcome than her canines had been in his throat.

He was getting hard underneath her.

_No! No! _he shouted to himself, feeling uncomfortable in his increasingly tight underpants, his cock straining to escape. _Go back down, go back down! _This couldn't be happening. How sick was he? Getting excited from her drinking his blood? He couldn't be turned on by her at a time like this. Scratch that, he couldn't be turned on by her at anytime! Even if she wasn't a murderous psychopath, she still wasn't Moka, wasn't the girl he loved. It was just wrong for him to get stimulated by her, in these circumstances or any!

"Please…stop," he repeated, quietly, shifting his legs slightly in a desperate attempt to hide his growing erection.

"What?" she replied, leaning in real close, filling his field of vision. Her eyes were filled with hunger; those two white strands of hair that dangled over her forehead tickled Tsukune's face; her pale skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; her breath caressing his lips when she spoke. "We're just getting started."

With that, Akuha lowered her head back to Tsukune's neck. The boy felt the heat rush up into his face at the feel of her soft, moist tongue lapping at the puncture wounds she had made, trying to suck up any delicious excess blood. "Oh my god," he mumbled, hardly believing this was happening. Any pain that had been caused by her fierce nipping earlier was now being washed away by her more soothing ministrations, although Tsukune knew it wasn't for his sake she was doing it, but for her own taste buds. His uncooperative body could no longer ignore the fact that he had on his lap a very gorgeous female vampire who, whatever violent fate she might have in store for him later, was right now making him feel quite good. And he could no longer prevent his excitement, unwelcome though it was, from rising up high enough to just softly poke Akuha on her behind.

She stiffened. Tsukune swore to himself. This was it. He was a dead man now for sure. At the very least, Akuha would…remove the offending appendage. Bracing himself for her wrath, Tsukune started sputtering out apologies for his arousal as she sat back up, a serious look on her face.

"Ahh..umm…please forgive me," he muttered, cursing his weak, weak body, so easily surrendered to temptation.

"Eager boy, aren't you?" she asked.

"No, that's not—"

Interrupting him, she placed a finger over her lips, shushing him. "I told you, didn't I?" she began, and to both his shame and unbidden pleasure, she pressed her rear back against his arousal. "I do find you worthless, you and all humans, but your blood…it's overpowering my senses." Her breathing was getting heavier. "I was going to wait just a little longer," she took her lower lip between her teeth. Tsukune couldn't help noticing how she looked like Moka when she did that. "But…well, look."

She grabbed his hand and before he could stop her, slid it under her dress. Tsukune wasn't prepared for the feel of her bare wetness against his fingertips, her womanhood slowly enveloping them as she lowered herself. Tsukune's breath hitched. What was she doing? This couldn't happen. It wasn't right! It was so—!

So soft…the way her moistened folds closed tightly around his horror, he realized his digits had started moving slightly inside her, exploring the new and unfamiliar territory. He was zoning out, barely even noticing the sounds he was drawing forth from Akuha's lips, or the bright flush that swept across her cheeks. His fingers sunk deeper, and he absentmindedly slipped in another to join the rest. He stroked her, caressed her, felt her liquid passion coat his hand. Her soft panting grew louder as she found herself starting to enjoy this far more than she had anticipated. Soon she couldn't hold out much longer under this boy's ministrations; knowing that he had her coveted Shinso blood inside him should have enraged her, and probably would have, but the heat in her core was only making it add fuel to her flame. And the flame was growing.

Tsukune was now pumping her in earnest, his mind lost in a sensuous haze. Akuha had been robbed of coherent thought herself, and was reduced to gasping out in pleasure, resting her hands on Tsukune's powerful abdominals while she rode his fingers, taking them deep into her pussy as she thrust down. Before she knew it, the tight coil within her suddenly snapped. Rapturous convulsions seized her petite frame, and Akuha mewled out her ecstasy. Her head tossed back, she rode out her orgasm, coating Tsukune's lap with her juices; the boy stared blankly at her, his jaw slack, eyes focused solely on the erotic sight before him. When she was finished, she collapsed down on his chest, catching her breath. Tsukune stared past her, slowly registering what had happened, realizing his fingers were still in Akuha and were thoroughly drenched.

_This…this is—_

He quickly withdrew his fingers from his captor's quivering pussy and brought them up to his face, finding it difficult to maneuver with Akuha right on top of him. Staring at the coated digits, he felt a small sense of amazement and, dare he admit it, curiosity. This was the first time he had ever done something like this – he had barely even been "intimate" with Moka in any way, and now Akuha was casually forcing him through his first sexual experience.

Wait, was that the right word, forcing?

…

Or…was she leading?

For as much as he tried to deny it, Tsukune was now more aroused than he had ever been. His fear had not fully fled, but now a small voice in the back of his mind was whispering to him, practically imperceptibly, that he wanted more. Tsukune shook his head when he heard the voice. No! He had to put a stop to this before anything even more wrong happened! But his erection was stronger than before, and showed no signs of softening. Slowly his lust was beginning to override his better judgment. For some reason, the desire he was feeling was alarmingly similar to the sensations he experienced when using influenced by his vampire blood during training with Moka, or during the many dangerous situations they had had to overcome in the past. As it did then, it was making his heart beat quicker, his blood get hotter; he was feeling more invigorated, more powerful, more raw and physical, and as a natural side effect, less inhibited. Having a woman's cum on his hand for the first time wasn't helping matters.

This was bad. He couldn't let himself get this excited! No, he had to put a stop to it quickly, before it went too far. But…how?

"Aiya~" The seductress atop him cooed, giggling teasingly as she sat up, finally recovered from her climax. "I didn't expect that to be so good!" Akuha grinned at the boy. She had rather enjoyed herself just now, quick as it had been. The human definitely had some talent with those fingers of his. She found herself wondering if he had the same skill with other, hopefully larger appendages. Akuha smirked at the thought, then, deciding to be gracious enough to reward the boy for his service, turned her head to the side, and took his raised fingers—coated with her essence—into her warm, inviting mouth. Her tongue danced around, cleaning him off, tasting herself. As she sucked off her juices, savouring the low groans emanating from her captive, she found herself starting to think that it might be better to not just kill him when they were finished, as she had originally intended. If she were to keep Tsukune alive longer, they could do this again another time. Whether he wanted to or not. Akuha didn't really care how he felt about it. Besides, despite himself, he actually did seem to be enjoying this a little. In any case, she decided, if she could play with him, take his blood—and take him—whenever she wanted, she could be satisfied. He might just make a good toy.

_Toy._

She laughed inside, repeating the word to herself. That sounded rather good, making him her permanent plaything. Her original plan until this point was born out of rage for having her Moka kept from her, and it ended with Tsukune's death. But this new idea, it seemed better. For one, it was a way she could keep him from corrupting her pure and precious Moka any further. She would be generous enough to let Moka come see him if she wanted, but she would be keeping them here with her, to make sure the boy didn't negatively influence her sister any more, with his fanciful and naïve ideas about "compassion" and "understanding" between ayashi and humans. Plus, she realized if she were to outright kill him, it might make Moka sad. As appalling as she found that to admit, it sounded like Moka was fond of this boy, and if Akuha killed him, then her dear sister might never speak to her again. She didn't know if she could live with that. Moka might decide she preferred those new friends she had made at school to her eldest sister and want to leave her. At this thought Akuha felt an unpleasant pang in her gut, a mixture of fear and sadness. She did not have very many things in life she cared about, but when it came to Moka, she loved her more than anything. Possessively so, to be sure, but only because…well yes, to protect her was one reason, but when she thought about it completely honestly, it was because…Moka was…

_Gah! Stay focused Akuha Shuzen! _she scolded herself, shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts. She didn't want to dwell on that now. The point was, she loved Moka and wanted the best for her. And if she could keep her happy at the same time, all the better. So, it would probably be for the best if she stuck with this new plan. Yes, to keep the boy here as a prisoner, and use him to sate her hungers whenever she wished. Of course, Tsukune wasn't necessarily the only person she planned to have this fun with…

_But that will come later, _she reminded herself happily, greatly anticipating _that _event. It was already getting her excited again, the familiar tension in her core returning. But that was neither here or now. Right now she was still straddling the hard stomach of this vampirically enhanced human boy, finishing up the last traces of her cum that remained on his hand, raising a sultry glance to meet his wide-eyed stare. Still a slave to his unreleased hormones, Tsukune couldn't look away from her entrancing gaze. It almost seemed as if her eyes would not let him. He guessed it was her Charm ability. Kokoa had once told him vampires had that power, similar to the Kurumu's, but not quite as powerful. Even if that was the case, Tsukune couldn't break free from this spell either, and he could barely even answer her when she spoke again.

"Are you afraid, little Tsukune?" Her voice was oddly soothing.

"No…" was all he could manage to mutter, though he knew it was false.

Akuha clicked her tongue – she knew it, too, of course. "Still lying, I see. Silly boy, when will you learn that I can see right through you? Besides," she said, reaching up to cup his face with a tenderness that startled Tsukune, "there's nothing to be afraid of." Then, leaning in with hunger in her eyes, she seized his lips in a fierce kiss. Tsukune's eyes opened wide as saucers in shock, suddenly feeling her tongue probing his lips, silently asking for entrance. Well, silently demanding entrance was more like it. Finding himself unable to object, Tsukune's lips parted and Akuha's tongue dashed inside, dueling with the boy's own tongue for a dominance she easily achieved. She really was leading after all, he realized. As she explored his mouth, Tsukune tasted something strange. Not bad, by any means, just different. It was then that he realized, and the realization sent a stimulating rush to his groin, that he was tasting her own cum on her. Tsukune moaned, feeling Akuha pour more passion into the kiss, discovering every inch of his mouth she could reach with her tongue, and his eyelids grew heavy with increasing desire. Unconsciously releasing tiny moans into the vampire's mouth, he was being overcome by lust. This was too hot, he admitted. It was too unbelievable, too surreal, what she was doing to him was—

_Wait…she…she's kissing me? _Awareness suddenly dawned on him. _But I haven't even kissed Moka yet! _

He moaned loudly against Akuha's lips and started squirming beneath her, regaining enough cognitive thought to try to escape their liplock. He could feel Akuha's mouth turn into a frown against his, and she pulled back from him, nipping his lower lip with her fangs as she did, drawing both blood and a wince from the boy. Looking at him with slight irritation, she licked off the tiny drops that had managed to get on her lips and teeth.

"What's the problem?" she asked, annoyed at being interrupted. Although she would never admit it to him, she had found herself enjoying that a bit more than she would've thought. The boy had tasted so good, and his obvious inexperience with kissing was somehow a little endearing. "Was that not to your liking?"

"N-no, it wasn't…I mean yes! Well, no, but yeah, it's just…" he tried to speak clearly. "It's Moka. We haven't…I haven't…me and her, and now you…" he was stumbling over his words. "…We haven't ever kissed," he finished softly. "I've never kissed anyone, actually…"

Akuha raised her eyebrow. "Well well, aren't you the romantic?" She didn't know much about humans, nor did she care to, but she was aware that many of them harbored strange notions of courtship, including placing a high importance on their first kiss. Quite frankly, she didn't get the fuss. Sure, it was her first kiss, too. So what? She wasn't a virgin anyway, having used her Fairy Tale subordinates to sate her physical needs a few times, she had just never bothered to kiss them. She didn't see the point really, and the only reason she had even done it now was because she knew it was often a part of human sexual interaction, and since he was a human, it might calm Tsukune down and make him more receptive to her. Well, that and the fact that she was so turned on, and his lips looked so tasty, especially with the memory of how good his blood was. But come on, she thought, it was just her mouth touching against his, and it didn't indicate anything other than that she was horny. Right? No, it definitely did not mean anything more than that.

…No matter how soft his own lips were on hers…how good that part of him tasted, just as she expected…how surprisingly cute she had found his little moans to be…

_Hey, what the hell am I thinking? _She slapped herself mentally for having such thoughts as those. At best they were just a harmless waste of time as far as she was concerned, and at worst, potentially dangerous. Either way, focusing on them would distract her from her current goal of simply using the boy to sate herself. And sate herself she would. Maybe it was just her hormone-clouded mind talking, but Akuha found herself thinking how silly Moka was for not having taken full advantage of this human yet, more than just taking his blood. The pleasure he had already brought her so far was nothing to sneeze at, vampire or not, and Akuha wasn't intending to let her new toy go to waste like her sister was.

"Don't get so worked up," she said, seeing he was still upset over it. That would not do at all. It was time to get to it, to make him lose himself in her.

At that she raised her hand to the top of her dress, then suddenly, with one swift downward motion, she had split it clean down the middle. Shrugging the tattered remnant off her shoulders, she revealed to Tsukune that she hadn't bothered to wear anything underneath; her pale front was fully exposed to him as the dress crumpled around her. A seductive grin spread across her features as she lifted her arms to cover her breasts from view. "I was only trying to get you relaxed for this."

"T-This?" he repeated. He knew what she meant, he was just having trouble digesting it. "Why…?" he asked. It was bad enough this girl had taken his first kiss, but now, his…

"Why?" She fixed her eyes on his once more. "I told you why. Your blood got me excited. And I will not just be left in such a state. You are responsible, so it will be you who I use for this."

Tsukune couldn't believe it. To his dismay, he saw that his erection had not gone down once, not during her orgasm, not during their kiss, and not now. "Please don't do this," he said, trying to get through to her, hoping against hope to change her mind. What was worse than understanding that his attempts were probably useless was the knowledge that despite that, part of him didn't want her to stop. Part of him—how small a part he could not say for sure—wanted this. Wanted her. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

Akuha heard his protests, but she could also see the desire kindled in his eyes. And she wasn't about to quit now. The fire had been raging in her loins ever since she tasted his Shinso-infused blood, and it had to be dealt with. Slowly she leaned towards him and licked a moist trail up the side of his face. "Aww, is little Tsukune nervous?" she crooned, covering his body with hers. "I know you're new to this, but you can't really be that bashful." Then with a quick movement of the wrist she removed his underpants, letting his cock spring up and smack her bare flesh. The sound brought a smirk to her face as she pressed down on Tsukune's chest, keeping him still with her inhuman strength while she lifted herself right above his throbbing tool.

"Oh well, I don't really care either way," she teased. "But who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself if you relax a little. No promises, of course! I did say I would break you after all, didn't I?" She let out a light giggle.

This was it, Tsukune realized, biting down hard on his lip, watching Akuha slide down on him, red passion filling her cheeks, her breath stilled as she covered his hardness inch by inch until he filled her snatch completely. She moaned quietly, motionless for a second so she could just enjoy the feeling of Tsukune inside her. God, he was big! Akuha was thrilled. Sure, she could see he had an impressive size just by looking, but having it inside her, stretching her out so easily, was better by far.

Tsukune looked on, his mind now fully overcome by overpowering need, watching Akuha as she began rocking her hips back and forth. The vampiress' expression had softened from her increasing lust, her mouth hanging slightly open, letting out surprisingly delicate gasps at the erotic sensations shooting through her lithe body at every downward thrust. Tsukune felt the moist slapping of their hips and in his lust-filled haze heard low moans reaching his ears; he realized moments later that they were his own. Having been the only one of the two not to orgasm so far, his arousal was breaking down his final barriers of resistance, made especially more difficult by Akuha's increasingly rough gyrations, swirling her hips around before slamming back down fully onto his invading member. As if against his own will, he saw his hands suddenly reaching out to grasp onto the woman's waist, gripping tightly, almost…guiding her, even. Guiding her movements on him, bringing her back down hard against his pelvis.

_No…_

Worse still, he soon found his own hips thrusting almost automatically, by instinct, jerking them up to meet Akuha's down thrusts. She obviously appreciated his new efforts, for bending down she clung onto his broad shoulders while she rode him. Unable to help himself, Tsukune's arms wrapped around the girl, part of his unbelievably aroused mind desiring to be closer to her while they mated. His hands found her back, and caressing it he felt the sheen of sweat covering her bare creamy skin, her body perspiring from the energy she was exerting. Despite himself, Tsukune's primal instincts sought to match her efforts, guiding his hands to pull her right against his body and slam up into her over and over, the pace and force of his wild thrusting increasing by the second.

_no…_

For her part, Akuha was thrown off balance by his sudden aggressiveness. Struggling to keep a hold on the younger boy's sweat-dampened shoulders, small whimpers started escaping her lips. His chest was rubbing up against her nipples, driving her even more wild. Tsukune was a little surprised to hear the sounds she was making, tiny moans and pants of joy at having her wet cunt so ravaged. It made her seem unusually vulnerable, which just aroused his inner beast even more. Clutching her to him, the small protests of _No _at the back of his mind now barely a whisper, he drilled into her tight, clenching pussy, thinking of nothing but savoring the feel of her inner walls around him as she was speared powerfully. Her vanilla perfume mixed in with the heady scent of her sweating body drifted into his nose, and leaning up his tongue began lapping at the sweet smelling skin of her neck. Through the storm of her lust, Akuha's mind registered pleasurable shock – she was getting more and more pleased at the boy's increasing assertiveness.

"G-god!" she gasped, "So g – ahh! S-so good!" If she had been standing, her knees might have given out as the boy's lips trailed hungrily along her throat and jawline.

Tsukune was too absorbed in her to reply, pounding into her with a strength that surprised even him. If Akuha wasn't a vampire, his thrusts might actually have hurt her, especially with the added power his blood was giving him. The sound of their moans and wet hips slapping together filled their ears, drowning out all else as they lost themselves in each other's bodies. Lips, tongues and teeth sought out any skin they could, and Akuha's fangs once again sunk into Tsukune's flesh, muffling her erotic cries against his naked shoulder. Tsukune gasped at being pierced, but found it only spurred his lust on further; his hands slid down to the girl's ass, digging his fingers into her well-shaped behind, gripping it possessively while they rutted. Akuha was glad he couldn't see her blush harder when that happened. Tsukune could feel only her hot, sweaty body pressed flush against his, her fangs anchoring her head next to his, her jet black locks tickling his face as she rocked against him, everything about her now driving his sexual frenzy.

But for all his vigor and passion, Tsukune was still pretty inexperienced when it came to this, and the ecstasy that Akuha's sensuous body and tight depths was giving him was quickly pushing him to his limit as she bucked her hips violently against his, screaming her wanton bliss against him. He could feel himself approaching his much needed orgasm; his cock straining inside her, he felt the tight coil within his own core reaching its breaking point.

"Oh—oh god," he grunted, "Aku—I'm…I'm gonna—!"

She knew what he was trying to say, and after a few more short pumps of his cock, she managed to begrudgingly slide it out of her – as much as she was enjoying herself, there was no way she would risk pregnancy by this human. Shifting down to her hands and knees, she quickly engulfed Tsukune's length in her mouth, as much as she could fit, while her fingers found her own sopping arousal. That was it for Tsukune. Feeling her lips and tongue sucking and licking his throbbing tool, his body tensed, his hips jerked up forcefully and he cried out his climax to Akuha's ears, emptying himself down the throat of Moka's eldest sister.

Feeling him start to spurt in her mouth, Akuha experimentally allowed herself to swallow the first jet, hoping it would be as good as his blood was.

She wasn't disappointed.

Whether it was from the influence of the Shinso blood or not, Akuha didn't care. He was delicious, and she hungrily swallowed as much as she could keep in her mouth. The sensation of having his cum splashing against the back of her throat combined with her fingers wildly frigging her pussy was also enough for her to reach her next orgasm; her thumb pressed down on her clit, she let the euphoric waves crash into her, gushing out all over her hand and the bed covers.

Tsukune was still seeing spots on the back of his eyelids while the vampiress consumed her meal. He could feel when she pulled her mouth off his cock and wailed out her ectasy, signaling she had just cum again, too. As the last drops of semen spilled from him and Akuha let her head collapse onto his cum-covered lap, his body began to come down from the raging hormonal high it had just endured, and the full weight of guilt suddenly came sinking down in the pit of his stomach with the realization of what he had done.

"This can't be real..."

He had just had sex with Akuha Shuzen. The "Black Devil," member of the hateful Fairy Tale group, powerful warrior of the dreaded vampire family Shuzen, the woman who had just a little while ago carved new gashes into his body…and Moka's own flesh and blood. Tsukune felt most horrible at that last part, although his body gave a few more shudders as Akuha took it upon herself to clean off the rest of his cock, her tongue swirling around the deflating shaft and now empty balls to taste as much as she could. Unfortunately for him, this only served to remind Tsukune that for all the shame and guilt that was coming to him, it was extremely hard to deny that what had just taken place had felt…good. _Really, really _good. Unlike anything he ever imagined, although usually his fantasies involved Moka, one or the other of her, or both. And sometimes Kurumu would slip into one and spice things up, or Mizore, or Ruby, or others, and even that one time, completely unintentionally, Yukari. But none of that could matter now no matter how amazing it had felt. He'd had sex with Moka's sister, and there was no changing that.

Trying to block out the negative feelings that were coming back to him now, and still a little groggy from the strongest orgasm he had ever experienced – not to mention his first time having sex – Tsukune didn't really notice when Akuha took her lips off of him, having finished her own climax as well. Nor did he pay much attention to her crawling back up the bed and resting her chin on his slick chest, gazing at him with a very self-satisfied look in her eyes. Clearly she was pleased with herself for what she had just accomplished: she had taken Moka's companion and tamed him utterly, making him forget about everything else but her, using him to satisfy herself. And of course, deciding to keep him alive afterwards. More and more she was congratulating herself for having changed her mind about killing him, since she was already looking forward to the next time.

"So did you enjoy that treat, little Tsukune?" she asked, teasingly. "Actually, I don't think calling you little is appropriate now," she laughed, brushing a finger against her slit, which was dripping out the last of her juices. These sheets might need changing, she thought to herself, amused.

Tsukune gazed wearily down at her, her red eyes having lost very little, if any, of their sultry carnivorous passion as they roamed appreciatively up and down his upper body. The still heady scent of their sex in the air and on their bodies was clouding his mind, making it difficult for him to get out a full reply. "You…you made me… I didn't want that…"

Sighing, Akuha suddenly moved and reached over his head, as if trying to grab something. She tisked above him. "Please, who're you trying to kid? You were loving that, and who can blame you?" Tsukune scowled in silent response, not wanting entertain that notion. "It must have been an honor," she went on, stretching, "for a human such as yourself to actually mate with someone like me. Don't you think so?" He blushed a little at the question, despite hearing a touch of playfulness in her tone. The blush only intensified when he realized her petite breasts were hovering right over his face, filling his field of vision.

"But anyway, now that we're done with that fun little activity," she said, finally reaching what she had been aiming for. Tsukune heard a small click, like something being switched on, followed by a soft rustling off to the side. "Now that we're done with that, I have a little surprise for you! You see, I've decided to keep you alive. I'll explain later, but all you need to know now is you'll be staying with me for the time being. And before you try anything funny, I have something I think will keep you here. Look, we have company!"

Confused, Tsukune had no choice but to direct his eyes to where Akuha was now pointing as she took a seat right next to him on the bed.

What he saw caused him to gape in shock.

_It can't be…there's no way!_

There, behind an innocuous curtain at one end of the room that he had not even noticed before – a curtain that had just been pulled aside by the switch Akuha hit – was what must have been the source of the quiet muffled noise he had heard earlier, soon after first waking tied to the cross. Lying on a bed of her own, gagged and unclothed except for some lacy bra and panties, staring at the pair with wide eyes was—

"Moka!"

_To be continued...?_

So, that was my first attempt at a fic in some years, hope I'm not too rusty, hehe. Again, this might end up being a oneshot, it might not be. If I decide to continue it, I'll probably wait until more chapters have been released and Aqua's character gets more (hopefully) fleshed out. If I were to do more chapters before that, I'd probably end up developing her along the lines of an Azula, Diva or Anemone, and that very well might not be how the mangaka develops her. I want to stick to her character as much as possible.

Side note, for those of you who maybe have read my past couple of fics, specifically the "Untamed" one, and wonder if I'll ever continue it, the answer is, I'm not sure. I know that's not much of an answer, but officially, I put it on hiatus. I didn't cancel it outright. But along the way of writing it I stumbled into major writer's block and never got back around to continuing. I still have the same general climax and ending scenes in mind, as I did from the start, but I never figured out what would go in between.

That aside, I definitely hope you enjoyed this story, and look forward to more in the future. And as always, comments are welcome, so feel free to review whether you liked it, didn't like it, or just have some random thought about it. Thanks for reading!


	2. For Want of the Understanding

Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario+Vampire, or any of its characters, or make money from it, etc.

Here's chapter 2, at long last. Thanks to everyone who reviewed/subscribed/favorited this story! That kind of stuff is greatly welcome. I don't really have much to add up here except, there's a possibility some of you might be squicked by this chapter at places more than the first, so be warned of that. Otherwise, on with the show.

**For Want of the Understanding**

"Moka!"

Tsukune's cry was cut short as he coughed, his throat straining from its earlier use. Blinking to clear his vision, he again stared dead ahead at what had just been revealed. Akuha had drawn his attention to that previously unnoticed curtain right before she drew it aside, exposing to Tsukune's horror Moka, bound and gagged on another bed, her silver hair draped behind her, her red eyes trying to fight off drowsiness with glowering. Like he had been, she was almost completely naked, except for some tiny lingerie which Akuha had probably left on at some attempt of modesty. Tsukune realized, it must have Moka who made that mysterious sound when he had first woken on the cross before suddenly disappearing!

"What, what is this Akuha?" he asked, dumbfounded, trying to avoid locking eyes with Moka.

"Aiya~ Surprised?"

Walking over to Moka she stood by the top of the bed and reached down to caress her sister's tresses, weaving them through her nimble fingers.

"I thought I'd surprise you. See? You were thinking I could've done something bad to Moka, but look, she's just fine."

"Just fine?" Tsukune spluttered. "You've tied her up like a prisoner. You already have me, so just let Moka go!"

Akuha sighed and shook her head, resting her chin in her hand.

"Don't be ridiculous, Tsukune. Moka's not imprisoned. She's _home. _She's with me, where she belongs."

"Where she belongs?" Tsukune was stunned at her narcissism. "She doesn't belong with you! She belongs with us, with her friends, together at the school. You can't just take her away from that."

"Don't forget what we talked about before," she warned him. "I'm the only one who can take care of Moka."

Tsukune remembered what she was talking about. The darkness inside of Moka, residing deep in her soul. He didn't want Moka to have to think about that, though, and he wasn't pleased that Akuha would even bring it up.

"You are a monster," he growled, letting his anger come to the surface.

"Now, now," she taunted, "is that any way to talk to a girl who just fucked you?"

Tsukune's cheeks got red hot in response, and he quickly turned his head away, unable to even look in Moka's direction.

"Don't say that…not in front of Moka…" he mumbled.

The hurt that had been with him since having sex with Akuha now came on full force, and he was ashamed in front of his beloved's presence.

Akuha glanced down and saw the girl's glare recede and her own blush cross her face.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this out of the way," she said. Bending down, she stroked her sister's cheek delicately. "Moka dear, I'm sorry, but I had a little fun with your boyfriend. It surprised me, too. He just looked so good, and he even had tasty blood inside him!"

Slowly forcing himself to turn back, Tsukune looked towards Moka again to see how she was reacting to this.

_I need to show her I'm ok, in case she's worried that Akuha hurt me, _he thought, eventually reaching Moka's gaze with his own, trying to communicate to her with his eyes that he was there for her.

As for Moka herself, she was split inside. She had known what Akuha said was true. Or at least, she'd sort of known. The last thing she could really remember was being at the Wong mansion and Touhou Fuhai offering to fix her seal. After that…nothing. She had a complete blank in her memory. Well, except for some odd feeling she had of distant pain, and…Tsukune. Tsukune had been there, talking to her…right? She couldn't recall clearly. But then, she had woken up, apparently on this bed, completely out of it and unaware of her surroundings. She'd been stripped, bound, and tied up with restraints that must have been charmed to prevent her from using her strength to easily break them. It was shortly afterwards that she had started hearing some strange sounds. Sounds she had never really experienced before but still was able to recognize, almost as if by nature. The curtain had blocked her vision, or what she had of her vision at that moment, given the fog she was in upon waking, so deep had been her sleep. She wasn't sure, but it had sounded like two people doing…_that. _Like they were really going at it, and enjoying it. Moka, both herself and her Outer form who was currently dormant within her, often shied away from that subject out of embarrassment (though Inner would never admit it), except for several moments when she had thought about Tsukune… Those times, when she was alone, she had actively had to stop herself from indulging her urges and keep her modesty intact. But still, in her heart, she realized that if anyone was ever going to get her to give in to any of those desires, it would be…him. Tsukune.

Which is why she swore her heart had frozen for an instant when she had heard a familiar female voice call out Tsukune's name in great abandon. She couldn't see past that curtain before her in that dark room, but she had definitely heard it. And then, just as suddenly, she heard—

_His voice!_

"Tsu…Tsukune," she had tried to call out, but was prevented by the gag over her mouth.

The air pricked against her bare flesh, nudging her more and more coherent. Soon enough, the "activity" behind the drape stopped, and for a few moments there was silence, except for the muffled breathing that reached Moka's ears.

"So did you enjoy that treat, little Tsukune? Actually, I don't think calling you little is appropriate now."

The girl the voice belonged to laughed as she said this. Moka's mind reeled in shock and realization dawned on her. It was Tsukune in that room. Tsukune with some woman who sounded familiar. Tsukune who had just been…

_I-it can't be! __Did Tsukune…? _

Her mind was so distracted by putting the pieces together that she didn't pay attention to the conversation that followed, and was caught off guard when the curtain was suddenly swept aside, revealing the room to her vision. And now, she was staring into Tsukune's eyes, seeing the horror and regret dancing beneath them that she was sure mirrored her own. She wanted to say something to him, to make sure he wasn't wounded, or to let him know she was ok, or something. But still she was prevented from doing so. Forcing herself to tear her gaze away from him, she looked to Akuha, seething rage beginning to boil up in her gut, spreading upwards like fire to her skull, wanting nothing more than to bite through this barrier and spit at her sister.

That turned out to be unnecessary, though, as Akuha then removed the gag from Moka's mouth herself. Moka didn't spit at her, however, but just stared open mouthed at the two before her.

"Tsukune…" she said, "What did… But, why?"

Tsukune hung his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

How could he bare this? There he was, naked before her, after just doing _that _with her equally naked sister, with her saliva even still coating his member.

"What is this?" Akuha interjected.

Glancing back and forth between the two, she decided to focus on Tsukune, since she couldn't stare at her sister's flawless bare body too long without feeling a blush coming on.

"What's with the sudden gloom?"

"Akuha-neesan…" Moka began, her body trembling despite herself. Whether it was from fury or sadness, she wasn't sure.

"What's going on? You forced Tsukune to…to…" she couldn't get the words out.

At that moment, Moka caught a glimpse of Tsukune. In the back of her mind, she admitted that the training she had been giving him had been doing him some good. Her eyes danced over his muscular abs and pecks, still heaving gently as he recovered from his exertion, taking note of the scars he had acquired over time.

_Wait, that scar-! _

Her eyes widened upon spotting a scar on his stomach that she didn't recognize. When had that gotten there? It looked new. But that meant…

"Akuha-neesan, did you give Tsukune that scar?" she demanded, the anger clearly taking over in her mind.

Akuha turned back to her and shrugged.

"Yeah, I got mad at him for a second and cut him. I was actually worried for a second that I made the cut too deep, and that he might die. Then I wouldn't have gotten to have my fun, and I also thought it would've made you sad, Moka."

"Made me sad?" Moka echoed, her voice low. She couldn't help letting out a grim chuckle.

"What do you care about making me sad?"

Her rage was growing more and more, bringing her emotions up to the surface. She hadn't seen Akuha in who knew how long, and the first thing she does is have sex with Tsukune? No, that wasn't right. It was _her. _It was supposed to be _her _who would be with him! Screw her ice queen barrier and her half-hearted denials, she was furious.

"You don't care one bit, that's obvious, not when you just…you just…" she paused, her eyes widening at what she found herself about to say, but powerless to stop it.

"You took Tsukune from me!"

The room deadened in silence. Moka felt her stomach leap into her throat and locked eyes with Tsukune. Did she really just say that? He looked right back at her, flushed, unable to believe his ears. What Moka had just said…had she just called him…hers? He had never really been positive what she felt for him, but now, she had blurted out something like that in her passion. Moka felt the same way he did… This was certainly not how he had imagined a confession from her to be, and he was too stunned to look away, despite the swirling emotions within him. Confusion, hope, regret, love…he was too conflicted now to even form a coherent thought.

For her part, Akuha, too, had been dumbstruck by Moka's outburst. She had suspected the worst, but now it was confirmed. Moka did like Tsukune. Her baby sister liked someone else. But more than that, Akuha felt another emotion welling up inside her. It took her a moment to realize what it was: a tinge of pain at seeing Moka actually upset over this. She thought that Moka would be excited to see Tsukune naked and would want to have a go with him next. Plus, once Akuha had tasted his blood, she couldn't have held back if she wanted to. But she hadn't wanted or expected Moka to be this distraught, and it was wounding her more than anything had in years. Akuha had been intending on keeping Tsukune for a pleasure toy in the future, but if it meant her sister being upset, that plan might not go as she had expected.

"Moka…" she replied gently, sadly, moving over to her and climbing up next to her on the bed.

"Don't be silly. I wasn't taking him away from you. I mean, you might like him, but there's no way I'd allow such a person to be _my_ companion. I just used him for sex, nothing more. He still wants you, as much as I may disapprove of you coupling with such a lowly creature."

She paused, then gave a hesitant laugh.

"Well, I suppose I'm not one to talk now am I."

Moka wasn't amused. Like Tsukune, her feelings were all turned about this way and that, especially after what she'd just said before. She could only weakly move her head away from Akuha when she tried to touch her face. Her sister's words, surprisingly, were offering the extreme minimum amount of comfort to her. For if she was telling the truth, that would mean Tsukune hadn't been taken from her, not really. Not in the way that was most important. She was still horrified at the thought of Akuha and Tsukune mating, even more so when she thought of the pain Tsukune had to go through, but if she was still the one in his heart…then, that was better than the alternative. What's more, Moka felt guilty that Tsukune had had to suffer all this trauma because of her. Akuha was _her _sister. It was _her _seal that had needed fixing in China.

_All for my sake, Tsukune was hurt…_

Watching her little sister, Akuha was worried as she saw the sadness creep into Moka's eyes. She wanted to take her hurt away, but despite her boasting to Tsukune, wasn't certain how. And her position wasn't conducive to coming up with an idea, Moka's perfect figure being so close to her own naked skin. Akuha had temporarily forgotten she was even nude after the shock of Moka's outburst, but the realization was now bringing a low heat to her center, even though she chastised herself for feeling that way when Moka needed consoling. Damn her uncontrollable urges!

"Really, Moka, don't worry!" Akuha cried out. "Umm, uhh, you can have him if you want, I'm not gonna take him from you, I swear."

But try as she might, Moka just stared down at herself distantly.

Akuha didn't like this. She had to do something. That Tsukune was proving to be useless after all, as he was just staring blankly in front of him, probably lost in his own fragile thoughts, Akuha figured. What the hell was his problem? Her thoughts raced.

_Geez, good lay or not, he really is a helpless human after all. He can't even help the girl he has feelings for, though I guess I'm not that surprised… What should I do? Can't I help her either? _

She paused, her eyes resting on Moka. Only a few moments later, she found herself unable to _stop _looking at her sister, and her mind was quickly filling up with love and admiration for the girl.

_Ohh…but, but she just looks so_ _beautiful like that… _

Her anxious eyes were gliding over Moka's body, from her smooth legs, up her firm stomach, her full breasts covered by her bra, her gorgeous face framed with that silver mane and inset with fierce crimson eyes. Akuha couldn't concentrate on cheering Moka up, so distracted was she by her sister's seductive beauty. A blush fanned across her face.

_Uwaah~! I-I think I'm attracted to her! She's so pretty! I…I have to—I can't! Nooo I can't help it! _

She noticed Tsukune was looking at her curiously, observing her distracted behavior, but it was too late for her to stop.

_Aiya~ forgive me Moka!_

Before anyone could react, Akuha had seized Moka by the hair and swung her own head down to capture her little sister's lips with a hungry kiss, sliding her tongue right into the girl's just as she was exhaling. Moka's eyes widened when she realized what was happening, when she felt Akuha's moist appendage slink past her teeth. A fiery flush shot into her cheeks and robbed her of the ability to respond, making her mouth perfectly submissive to the elder girl's as she proceeded to moan lustily against Moka, not only feeling her hormones taking over her again like they with Tsukune, but at the same time wanting to show Moka how much she cared for her and never wanted to cause her sadness. Her lips tugged at Moka's, and the younger vampire was rendered docile in her stupor at Akuha, her own sister, kissing her with an intense passion.

Tsukune, meanwhile, watched with surprise. Although truthfully he was probably less shocked than Moka, and he'd had a hunch that Akuha harbored a strange affection for Moka, to put it mildly, from seeing her behavior in Moka's memories. But he was certainly caught off guard by this himself. Unable to look away, as if in a trance, he watched Akuha erotically assault Moka's lips and tongue, eventually sliding between her sister's spread legs to continue the kiss. Feeling a small surge in his loins, Tsukune glanced down at his shaft. It had been recovering all this time from Akuha's rough treatment, but now, seeing these two undeniably gorgeous vampire sisters swapping spit, even if it was one sided, was calling to attention his natural male hormones. His member was quickly hardening again, clearly ready for another round. However, Tsukune found it interesting that unlike his session with Akuha, he wasn't feeling quite as much guilt and shame for his arousal as he had then. Was it Moka that made the difference? Were his feelings for her driving his lust to overpower any objections he might have? Even though she was mostly obscured from his view by Akuha, who had finally pulled away from the girl's lips, Tsukune's inner beast found the whole thing unbelievably sexy.

"Hahh, hahh…" Akuha was panting, recovering her breath from the mindblowing makeout, as was Moka, who finally got back enough clarity of mind to react.

"Akuha…neesan," she said, her embarrassment palpable.

Tsukune caught a glimpse of her flushed face, strands of her silver hair draped over her forehead, and couldn't help think how cute she looked right then. Though he quickly realized this wasn't the time to think about that, and shook his head vigorously.

"Why… What was that?" Moka asked, breathing heavily. "W-Why would you do something like that? We're sisters! That's wrong! It's unbecoming of our race!"

She peeked past her sister's nude body and gasped.

"And in front of Tsukune?"

Akuha let out a deep breath and scooted off her sister.

"Sorry Mokaaa~ I couldn't help myself. You should look in a mirror sometime, you're gorgeous! It's just…very hard for me to resist you."

Moka simply stared at her in response, mouth agape in confusion, the jumbled sensations she was feeling and her sister's confession giving her a headache.

"I think it's always been that way, really…" Akuha confessed.

Tsukune noticed with some interest how much gentler and more innocent her voice always seemed to sound when talking to Moka.

_But wait, _he paused, _something's off about Moka. _

He glanced at her again; thankfully she was still focused on Akuha, so he didn't have to meet her gaze again in this awkward position.

_It's strange, but she seems relatively…fine. How is it that after having the dream she had, she's not completely breaking down or trying to viciously murder Akuha? _

Tsukune wondered at this, but then it began to dawn on him.

_Does Moka…not remember what we saw in her memories?_

It had to be the case! Otherwise, if the memories had returned, there was no way Moka would have such a tame reaction to seeing her long lost sister again, and especially being on the receiving end of a passionate kiss. But then, if she didn't remember…

_Maybe…it's for the best. I know it's wrong for me to think that, but…wouldn't it be worse if those memories came rushing back to her?_

Akuha, meanwhile, was pleasantly surprised herself that Moka didn't seem to remember anything about their last encounter. She had been a little apprehensive about that possibility before Moka woke up, but now she was breathing a sigh of relief. In fact, it was even putting her in the best mood she'd known in ages.

"I-I don't understand," Moka protested. "I don't even remember the last time I saw you, and now you've got me tied up like this, and telling me something like that…"

"Moka," replied her sister, compassion in her voice, "I know you're confused. But I'm going to look after you, and help you with whatever you need."

Tsukune glared at her for saying that, but she ignored him. Instead, she suddenly grinned and gestured towards her male captive.

"In the meantime, would you like to play with him yourself?"

Moka and Tsukune gasped.

"What are you saying, Akuha-neesan? Something like that—"

She spluttered, her pride fighting for control, unwilling to appear distressed.

But Akuha would have none of their shyness. She had been waiting for this this whole time and would not be denied. Approaching Tsukune, she grabbed him firmly by the wrist and yanked him off the bed, dragging him along towards Moka.

"A-Akuha! What're you doing?" Tsukune stammered.

"Quiet, both of you."

Reaching Moka's bed, she nudged Tsukune onto it, thinking of tossing him on but realizing she wouldn't want to crush Moka. Nervous despite his recent initiation into sex, Tsukune looked for a place to scramble to safety. But with Moka on the bed with him, he had little place else to go, finally settling on a position almost right up against her, leaning on his elbow next to her head. They were so close that Tsukune couldn't help himself from glancing down at her. Their eyes met briefly, but they quickly turned aside, blushing fiercely. Tsukune's mind raced at how sexy Moka looked, splayed out like that, breasts heaving under her top; her being bound was even…dare he say it, unexpectedly kinky. Moka fought with herself not to steal another glimpse of Tsukune's solid muscles or, his impressive member. If she thought about that now, they might end up doing…

_I really hope he can't hear my heart right now…_

A throat being cleared interrupted their fidgeting, and Moka's straps were cut in a flash.

"What're you guys waiting for?" Akuha blurted out, backing away from the bed.

"Go on. Fuck."

Moka turned red as her eyes while Tsukune coughed loudly in surprise. Subtlety was obviously not this girl's strong suit.

"Akuha-neesan!" Moka exclaimed, mortified.

"W-we can't just do that all of a sudden!" echoed Tsukune.

"Oh, please. You're still shy after I broke you in?" Akuha scoffed, taking a seat across from them. "Your tool there seems to want to take my advice."

Tsukune tried to cross his legs, uncomfortably failing to hide his raging hard-on from the girl next to him. He could practically feel her gaze darting over to it. And the truth was, he was unbelievably ready for this. Somewhat nervous, yes, but, to be able to make love to Moka? There was no question.

"M-Moka," he said quietly, trying to steady his voice. Even if he wanted it, Moka's wishes came first. It was up to her. His sexual, yet violent, romp with Akuha had given him a bit more confidence in this sort of thing, but Moka was still—

"N-no, Akuha-neesan!" Moka's voice suddenly grew in volume. "You can't just throw us together and expect us to do something like that. And think about how uncomfortable you're making Tsukune! No, we can't do something so shameless!" Her face took on its familiar scowl, as if struggling to hold back the conflicting feelings within.

Tsukune froze. She…had said no. On one level he was slightly relieved he wouldn't have to *perform* in front of Akuha. But on another… She sounded so adamant, so forceful, like her confidence had returned. Did she…just not want to be with him like that? Did she not think of him in that way after all?

Akuha was annoyed herself, a frown crossing her face. But before she could protest, Tsukune spoke up.

"Moka…" He lowered his head to look at her, forcing himself not to be embarrassed.

"I'm sorry all this has happened to you. If only I was stronger, you'd never have been taken."

Moka looked up at him in shock.

"Tsukune, no, it wasn't your—

"No, it's ok," he said, forcing a smile.

"I just want you to know, we don't have to do anything you don't want to. And I promise I'll keep you safe, somehow. Please believe in me."

"Tsukune…"

She watched, torn, as he made to get off the bed. But his words had touched her, and suddenly it was as if the dam within her heart had cracked, a small burst of the feelings it shielded spurting forth.

"Wait."

He obeyed, pausing with his back to her. Moka's heart was racing, her thoughts flying every which way as she tried to muster up the nerve to say what she wanted to say. It wasn't easy, not by a long shot. This was crazy! Not a day ago, she had been back home, and everything was pretty normal. The shield she always put up had gotten some cracks in it, but it was still manageable. Even in front of Tsukune.

But now, this was all so much. How was she to handle this? Her Outer self vanishing, being kidnapped by her sister, held captive and now forced to do such dirty things with Tsukune? Why did it have to be this way? She couldn't do something like that with him, because then—because then…

She might not be able to stop herself from taking that final plunge and fully admitting her feelings for him.

How could she? Participating in something like that, she would easily lose control of her heart, and then who knew what she might end up confessing in her rapture? And if she revealed her feelings to Tsukune, never mind the whole having sex part, things would change between them. Moka hesitated to admit it even to herself, but she was nervous about taking that monumental step.

Still…she was a young woman, with stubbornly persuasive urges. Even more so in this situation, on a bed with a nude Tsukune, nearly fully stripped herself. Those urges were quickly overriding even the most vocal protests in her mind and slowly, she reached out and took Tsukune's hand in hers.

"Don't—

Tsukune was startled at the sudden contact and the low mumble.

"Don't, what, Moka?"

He forced himself to meet her eyes, and her crimson gaze faltered.

"Don't…" she said, "You don't have to go."

Akuha's brow perked up upon hearing this, but decided it was better not to interfere.

Tsukune was unsure what to do. He glanced over at Akuha for any sort of advice, but before he knew it, a pair of hands had seized his head and forced it back down. Moka's small scowl only made her cuter in Tsukune's eyes.

"Don't look at her, Tsukune," she ordered, voice struggling to maintain its firmness. With her earlier outburst, it's not like she hadn't already communicated her feelings already. She could do this.

"Look at me."

With that, the girl forced a burst of courage and brought Tsukune down to her lips. The heat she had been feeling before was multiplied tenfold when they made contact, but she willed her eyes to stay open. She would not submit to embarrassment, even if she was finally kissing the only boy to ever reach her heart.

Tsukune's heart was throbbing so hard he was surprised it hadn't popped yet. Could this really be happening? He was kissing Moka! Her whole essence seemed to engulf him as they embraced, melting against each other like a perfect match. Hands began to explore new territories, gliding over smooth and scarred skin. Moka's hands unconsciously slithered around to grip Tsukune's ass, and squeezed. A surge of bravery rushed through him and he let his tongue flicker out to test the proud vampire's lips, delighted to find her own appendage already outside her mouth to meet his. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined how delicious Moka would taste, or that they would even be making out like this. He moaned her name into her mouth. Feeling more emboldened by the moment, he pulled back from his angel's lips to plant kisses along her collarbone, hovering just above her still bound breasts.

Akuha watched with amusement, though with a touch of jealousy as well, as the two settled into their kiss, as Tsukune's body lowered against her sister's. After she could tell they were deeply into each other, she rose and moved toward them to get a closer view. Crouching down by the bed, she instantly fell in love with Moka's flushed face, with her soft, demurring moans. She decided she wanted to see more of her beautiful sister now, and gently sliced through her bra strap.

"Akuha-neesan! Wha—!" Moka gasped, making to cover her exposed chest, but was blocked by Tsukune's head as he stealthily latched his mouth onto her nipple.

"Ahh~! Tsukune!"

She was stunned at the boy's sexual assertiveness. Where had the shy Tsukune who blushed just staring into her eyes gone? Moka didn't notice her sister's grin, for Akuha knew from experience how aggressive he could get once his blood – _her _blood, she corrected herself possessively – stirred. She was still feeling some of that fact in the slight soreness of her hips.

But Tsukune had not paid much attention to Moka's top disappearing. Hungrily he slurped at her firm bud, unable to suppress a growl that escaped his throat and reverberated against Moka's flesh, drawing the loudest cry from the girl yet. Akuha felt a rush of lust shoot to her bare pussy as the sound reached her ears, and she was longer content just to be an observer. Besides, she smirked, she could recognize the telltale sign of Tsukune's inner beast taking over, of his consciousness slipping away so he would be acting purely on instinct, and she wanted to play with Moka before she was sated.

"Tsukune!" Moka groaned again as his wet tongue trailed between her breasts. Suddenly, she felt Tsukune's body being shifted above her and her legs being spread delicately.

"What—? Hnnng!"

Moka quickly bit her lower lip to contain the sensation that suddenly coursed through her, as her panties were moved aside and a warm wetness started to dance along her core, flicking her nub playfully before diving inside with abandon. She knew Tsukune was still lavishing care on her breasts and neck, so that only left…

"Akuha…neesan! What are you doing?" She managed to rasp out.

But Akuha was enjoying herself far too much already to remove herself from her new treat. Whatever weirdness she had ever felt about being so intimate with her sister – not that there was a lot – vanished like smoke as the first hint of Moka's taste upon her tongue. And so she ignored the girl's questioning, opting instead to sample as much as she could of these delicious juices. Her tongue licked more and more fiercely at Moka's moist folds, growing wetter by the minute, savoring her sweet cries like rich music to her ears. She thought about adding a finger or two, but decided against anything that would leave less room for her to feast.

As for Moka herself, the constant assault of pleasure on her body was taking its toll. She was still incredulous at what her own sister was doing to her, and angry at her for what she did with Tsukune, and she would probably react more strongly against it later. But for now, combined with what Tsukune was doing to her, she couldn't really care. It just felt so good. Soon enough, she felt her vampire pride leaving her stranded in this plain of rapture, her walls being completely fogged up by her lust, and her need growing like wildfire. A moan escaped her throat.

"Please."

Tsukune stopped his ministrations at her vague request and looked up into her face. Breathing heavily, Moka lowered her eyes to meet his, staring straight into his hazy orbs that spoke untold volumes of the passion and heat he was feeling right now. He didn't make a move, just stared at her, and she flushed red with her own raging fire. Meanwhile she could feel Akuha's gorging slow down, as if she, too, was curious about Moka's desire. Matching her gaze with Tsukune, she reached down and, finding her target, placed a firm grip on his tool, tugging it towards her. Another whisper, half plea, half command. She would not be afraid.

"Please."

He didn't need to ask. After all they had been through, the look in her eyes told all. And he was ready to oblige. He shifted his body above her, his hips over hers, but Akuha was none too pleased about having to give up her spot.

"What do you think you're doing?" she inquired of the boy. "Did I say you could do that yet?"

Tsukune paused, unsure of what to do, but Moka was having none of that. Peeking down the bed, she frowned at her sister.

"Akuha-neesan," she growled warningly.

Akuha cringed as if struck. An embarrassed blush coming to her cheeks, she shrunk back, not wanting her Moka to hate her for any reason.

"S-sorry," she said sheepishly.

As she watched Tsukune line up with Moka's entrance, she considered how lucky he was to have her sister's favor. Otherwise she would've cut him down where he stood for daring to interrupt the tongue bath she was giving Moka.

On her end, Moka was steeling herself for her first time, and for the pain she knew would accompany it. She never would have thought only a few days ago that she would be losing her virginity to Tsukune at this very moment. Now the time had come. Amid the chaos their lives were going through, she welcomed this brief respite of happiness, no matter the weird circumstances surrounding it.

"Go on, Tsukune," she coaxed him.

Gazing upon her, Tsukune's heart skipped a beat at the heavenly creature offering herself before him. The heat in her face was still visible, that last bit of self-conscious nervousness that Moka was all too ready to sweep away. Her white tresses were splayed all around her pillow and matted with sweat against her forehead, and her full breasts heaved with every breath she took. Truly this radiant sight would never be purged from his mind.

"Alright," he said.

"You better be gentle with her," Akuha's voice came up from below.

Bracing himself, Tsukune pushed forward and in one powerful stroke, perhaps stronger than he intended, broke through Moka's barrier.

Her pained gasp made Akuha dig her nails into her palm, and she had to fight not to tear Tsukune apart for hurting her sister.

The boy paused, waiting for Moka to adapt to the new girth inside her. After breathing steadily for a few moments, she signaled him to move. Slowly he began thrusting, not believing how amazing it felt to be inside her. His hips set the tempo, and hers were quick to match. Moka's pants turned into louder moans as her pussy was speared, feeling herself widen to accommodate Tsukune's length more and more.

"Fuck," a rare curse escaped her lips just before they were engulfed in a searing kiss.

"F-Faster," she grunted into his mouth.

Akuha couldn't believe how erotic the vision before her was. Moka's legs raised in the air, coiling around Tsukune's thrusting hips, trapping him against her bare, perspiring body, his chest crushing her breasts as they picked up the pace. Lips and hands were everywhere they could be, Moka clutching firmly on Tsukune's shoulders, while his hands found a home on her tight rear, trying to bring her as close to him as possible. Watching this, Akuha couldn't stop herself from darting forward, hungrily extending her tongue back to Moka's pussy. Cleaning up her sister's virgin blood, she furiously went to work around Tsukune's pistoning cock, switching between Moka's aroused nether lips and the slickened member plowing through them. The added pressure on her cunt only enhanced Moka's ecstasy, and her walls clenched around Tsukune as he bottomed out inside her, his balls forcefully slapping against her with every stroke.

"Moka!" he gasped.

This was only his second time having sex, but already he seemed to know perfectly what to do. The feel of the girl he loved squeezing him as he rode her, with Akuha's tongue flicking every so often at his exposed meat, was unbearable in the best way possible. The feverish heat and friction between their bodies turned him on to no end, and the scent of their sex filled his senses till he could practically taste her on his tongue. Moka felt the sweat from her back soaking the bed below, her damp hair sticking to her forehead and cheeks as she was impaled over and over. Focusing her vision as best she could, she saw a pair of teeth marks on Tsukune's shoulder. Akuha's bite. Not willing to be outdone, she leaned up and sank her fangs right into Tsukune's neck, latching onto him as she was hammered relentlessly, their wet hips colliding with abandon. The touch of Akuha's tongue at her puckered ass only set Moka off even further, and she wailed into Tsukune's flesh, grasping blindly at any bit of skin she could find before withdrawing her teeth and clutching his head against her neck, panting short sweet breaths against his ear. Combined with the vigorous fucking and her sister probing her forbidden hole, her lover's mouth nibbling her flesh pushed her sexual fever to its breaking point. The physical lust was only heightened by the deep connection they shared, the love their hearts had built over time that made them feel joined together by more than just their bodies. A few more thrusts back against Tsukune's hips and she exploded, eyes sealed shut, jerking her pelvis up in the air, her head roughly thrown back, her mouth hanging open as silent screams passed her throat.

"T-Tsukuneee!" she cried hoarsely, her body spasming uncontrollably.

In the midst of climax, she was surprised when without warning she felt Tsukune raise his chest from hers, and a desperate tongue wildly trailed a wet line up her belly and to her neck. Her orgasm slowly receding, she managed to pry one of her eyes open, just in time to see Akuha's dripping snatch descend over her face.

"Aku—MMPHH!"

Akuha sighed joyfully at the contact. Even more delighted when Moka didn't push her away, she frantically tried to reach her own finish. A squeal tore from her lips when Moka's curious tongue pressed against her slit, and she ground herself even faster on the girl's face, feeling her cunt being shyly explored and tasted. The thrill of having Moka being the one doing this to her body careened her ever quicker to her limit, and already she could feel her juices leaking out onto her precious sister delicious (and talented!) lips.

Having struggled to contain his own orgasm as Moka experienced hers – wanting to savor the expression on her lovely features and memorize how she looked when she came – Tsukune now found himself face to face with his captor…his deceptively sexy captor, who was doubled over while she fucked her sister's face, consumed by overwhelming animalistic fervor.

"A-Ah! Mo-Moka! Yes, keep doing that, m-morrre!"

Tsukune's own core started coiling into that familiar knot, spurred on even more by Akuha's begging, and he knew it wouldn't be long now. The sight of the two gorgeous vampires in such an intimate act while he pounded one of them assaulted the last inhibitors of his own release. Driven by carnal hunger, and a touch of bravery, he reached ahead to tilt Akuha's head up before capturing her mouth with his, swallowing a moan she had just released. Akuha's eyes shot open in shock at this young human's fearlessness, but she was too far lost in her sea of passion to care. Nothing left for her but to rut on Moka's tender tongue and lips as she and Tsukune inhaled each other's breathy gasps, his hand cupping her face and hers clasping around his biceps to anchor herself. Nothing left for him but to deliver a few more powerful thrusts into Moka and finally lose all control, spurting wildly deep inside his beloved, hips shuddering against her as his head dropped to her breasts. So complete was his finish he barely noticed Moka reach her second orgasm, coating him with more of her fluids, mixing with the seed that was now flooding into her. Akuha was not long behind them, howling out her release, drenching Moka's face with her essence. Had it not been for Tsukune filling her with his love and her own climax, Moka probably would have been taken aback, but her mind told her nothing except to savor the strangely tasty liquid.

The three rode out the roller coasters of their passion, eventually collapsing in a sweaty, cum-stained heap. Tsukune's body rested gently on Moka's, feeling her heart beat through his cheek. Akuha slid off her wet, worn out perch and moved next to her sister, grabbing on to her arm and holding it close, shutting her eyes and trying to regain some energy. Blinking, Moka soon felt her senses gradually start to return, and a soreness that she hadn't really noticed before took root between her legs.

"What…what just happened?" she mumbled incredulously.

Tsukune's own haze was clearing, but he still only managed a grunt on her chest.

"That was wonderful, Mokaaa," Akuha sighed, clinging to her arm.

Craning her head to the side, Moka smiled weakly at her sister, far too sated to appreciate the full realization of what they had just done.

"I never imagined it would be so good. You were so amazing." Akuha sputtered out endless praise for the girl, who eventually turned her attention to the spent boy above her.

"Tsukune," she said lazily.

Akuha smirked. She had seen the forceful pounding Tsukune had given Moka. Indeed, it was quite familiar to her, similar to the time she had been with him and his blood had thrown him into a sexual trance where his only care was to rut to his heart's content. He wouldn't care who it was with then; romance would play no part in his mating.

"Are you impressed with him, Moka? I guess he was your first time. He's not half bad for a human, huh? Though once he gets going he's running on instinct. That inner beast of his takes over and turns him into a fucking machine, an animal. At least that's how it was for me," she giggled.

Moka was still angry at Akuha for bedding Tsukune, but having now claimed him herself, her post-coital bliss lessened the wound for now. Nevertheless, what Akuha just said didn't sit right with her pride. Or was it her pride? The idea that her lovemaking with Tsukune had been simply mechanical, devoid of real emotion, was disheartening. She made to object, but then—

"No…"

Both girls turned at the sound of Tsukune's voice. Lifting his head from Moka's stomach, he glanced up at them, the haze in his eyes dissipating.

"No," he repeated, "that's not true. That's not how it was this time."

Moka blinked. Akuha stared curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that didn't happen. I-it wasn't just instinct. I knew the whole time it was Moka I was with."

As he spoke, Moka felt her heart flutter.

"I didn't lose control or anything this time. Maybe it's because…"

He paused, gathering his courage.

"Maybe it's because it was with…you, Moka."

Quiet trailed upon his confession. Tsukune felt flushed, and tucked his head down meekly.

All of sudden, Akuha felt a small, yet keen aching sensation somewhere inside her. She frowned, bringing her hand to rest on her collarbone.

_W-what is this…?_

Gathering her strength, she crushed the feeling down. She let out tiny sigh of relief as the tension passed. And yet, she had no idea what had brought that pricking pain about. Her cheeks heated, she turned away from both of them. She was definitely not going to let anyone see her even the slightest bit rattled.

But Moka was speechless. As her brain processed what Tsukune had said, a small smile played along her lips, and a rare warmth filled her entire body.

"Tsukune…" she started, when Tsukune's head fell suddenly upon her body, signaling the overworked boy had let sleep carry him away. Allowing herself another smile, her fatigue overcame her as well. Her head lulled to the side, onto Akuha's shoulder, and her eyes closed.

Akuha felt sleep coming on, too. She stared at the napping pair, their bodies still interlocked and glistening with proof of their exertions. However, despite her beloved Moka's face being buried against her, she didn't feel as content as she thought she would after something like this. What was going on? she wondered drowsily. Just looking at the two from her position, perfectly happy as they appeared, made her get the sense she was...dare she admit, out of place. And she didn't like it.

The dull ache returned just before Akuha drifted off.

_Meanwhile…_

"Oh my, it's sooo nice to be back here! That village is far too cold for my liking, and already I've been sent there twice. Oh well, it was lovely to see Kokoa again. And now I get to see Akuha and Moka, too!"

Approaching the grounded airship, Kahlua gracefully boarded the outer ramp before her escort. She had received word yesterday from her elder sister that Moka and Tsukune Aono had been captured and brought here. Kahlua felt extreme apprehension at the thought of Moka and Akuha meeting. What was Akuha thinking? Here she had just told Kokoa and her witch friend to keep the two apart at any cost, and now Akuha had gone and foiled that plan. With any luck, Kahlua thought, the two hadn't completely murdered each other yet. She hated the thought of having to break up a fight like that between her sisters. Sighing, she reached the door flanked by two guards. They raised their hands in salute.

"Welcome, Lady Kahlua! It is an honor to have you!"

Gliding past them, Kahlua idly ran a hand through her hair, entering the ship's corridor. There she was greeted by two more sentinels, ready to show her to her room.

"Greetings, my lady. Please follow us. Mistress Akuha had your chambers made up some time ago, in the event of your return."

"Thank you. I am quite tired," she admitted. "And a nice warm bath would be delightful. You have no idea how dreadful the temperature is there."

The guards nodded respectfully, turned, and silently led her down the hall to the elevator. Kahlua smiled, childlike curiosity overcoming her.

_Now, then, I wonder what exactly Akuha is up to…_

_To be continued…_

Thanks for reading folks. Comments appreciated, positive or negative. Obviously, this time I'm coming straight out and saying I am planning another chapter, no maybes. But I hope you enjoyed this one. It ended up being a little shorter than the previous one, but I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Anyway, thanks again, and stay tuned!


	3. For Want of Control

Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario+Vampire, or any of its characters, or make money from it, etc.

**For Want of Control**

"_Akuha, dear, please leave us to talk alone."_

"_Yes."_

_"…"_

"…_how awful. What a complete mess for us. Who would have expected him to just wander in like that?"_

"_Those circumstances aside, perhaps a strong retraining is in order."_

"_I agree. What a colossal failure this turned out to be…"_

Akuha's eyes suddenly burst open, and the voices evaporated into nothing. She pulled herself to a sitting position and took a deep breath. It was only a dream. She placed a cool hand on her bare breast, feeling a heartbeat that was more rapid than usual. Why had she dreamt of that, of all things? That was a lifetime ago, the story of a weak, stupid little child. But, Akuha was not weak. Not now. Now she was strong. Indomitable. And she would not allow such ancient, dark dreams to make her head hurt like this.

Glancing over, her eyes focused on the two dimly lit figures sleeping soundly next to her, snug in each other's embrace. Infinitely peaceful, innocent. A small annoyance twinged through Akuha's hazy drowsiness. That boy, Tsukune, looked far too content and satisfied at cuddling up with his new lover. Akuha's own sweet, precious, innocent little sister. Now that she thought about it, maybe she had been too generous in allowing Tsukune this honor. Of course, it had been intended to make Moka happy, too, but why would Moka need this human to be happy? She reached down to brush a silver strand away from the girl's face, and sighed. Surely, Moka didn't really need Tsukune. Ultimately, he was just a nuisance, and undeserving of the leniency Akuha had shown him. And…she still remembered the discomforting sensation she had felt watching them in their afterglow. _What was that, anyway? _Whatever it was, this situation simply would not do. She needed to remind Tsukune of his position. Akuha would prove she was enough to keep her sister smiling. Tsukune was unnecessary. Moka would see. She _had _to.

_She's the only one I've shared everything with. The only one who could ever understand me…_

Her last thoughts before her head flopped back on the pillow were about what to do with the troublesome boy tomorrow.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Tsukune, time to wake up."

The boy yawned as the soft, gentle voice coaxed him out of his slumber into the brightly lit room. Not sunlight, for there were no windows. But all the lights had been switched on, and it sure felt like he had been asleep for a whole night.

"M-Moka?"

He blinked, his love's face coming into view, and was then rapidly flooded with memories of the previous day's "events."

"Moka!"

He bolted up, a blush prominent on his features. Moka's own cheeks were also flushed; clearly they were thinking over the same thing, shyness over their intimate acts rising to the surface.

"G-good morning, Tsukune." She smiled hesitantly, and Tsukune noted how beautiful it was.

He returned the greeting, and looked around, getting his first non-groggy look at the chamber. And strangely, the ground felt like it was…rumbling?

"What's going on, Moka? What's this vibration? Where's Aku—Akuha?" He was nervous to mention her, given what they had done yesterday, too.

Luckily, Moka didn't seem to take notice. "I don't know," she confessed. "I've only been up a little longer than you. She was already gone by then, and in fact it was the rumbling that woke me."

Tsukune nodded, scratching his head. All of a sudden he realized, while Moka had gotten dressed, he was still stark naked. Despite having bared himself in full to Moka last night, his brain currently lacked the cloudy lust to remove his discomfort at being seen in his birthday suit.

"Umm, are there clothes for me somewhere?" he stuttered, pulling the blanket up to cover himself.

Moka chuckled. A sweet, low melody. She pointed over to the nearby dresser, where a simple shirt and pants were laying, neatly folded. "I'm guessing those are for you."

"Could you toss them over here?"

Sighing in amusement, she complied. And when Tsukune rose to put on the garments, she even turned her back to him. Although, to be honest, not looking didn't accomplish anything. The image of his firm body was seared into her mind after last night, and she could access it any time she wanted. In fact, she realized how strange it was that she was even entertaining such thoughts. Usually her mind was much more reserved and conservative. Perhaps the wild passion and abandon she had experienced had loosened her up a little, figuratively speaking?

In short order, Tsukune had dressed and walked over to Moka. She turned back to him, unsure what to say.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, tentatively trying to avoid any awkward silences.

Moka was caught a little off guard by the question. "Y-yeah," she replied. "It was the best sleep I've had in a long time, I guess that's not surprising since, u-um…well, you know, you and m-me…" Tsukune smiled widely. It wasn't often he got to see this cute, nervous side to Inner Moka, but the way she was stammering and blushing was making this a very good morning. "Actually… I had a dream," she said, regaining some composure. "Well, more than that, maybe. I think…I think I spoke to Omote."

Hearing something like that made Tsukune's heart spontaneously jump in his chest. "Wha-what? What do you mean you spoke to her?"

Looking down, Moka fiddled with the rosary between her fingers. "Well, I—"

"Moka! So good to see you!"

Moka and Tsukune turned with a start as the door flew open. With a lovely smile on her face, Kahlua entered gracefully. Immediately spotting her baby sister, she rushed forward and crushed her in a great bear hug, squealing joyfully, leaving Tsukune to stare as Moka couldn't keep her balance against the sudden force, bringing the two girls crashing to the floor.

Rising a moment later, Kahlua stepped back an inch and brushed her dress off. She looked just as much like a princess as the last time Tsukune had encountered her. Blonde locks framing her lovely face, a pure white dress wrapped around her warm, surprisingly olive skin, capped by a glittering tiara; clumsy as she was, she was still quite a sight. Kahlua turned her attention to him and gave a pleasant smile in greeting.

"So Akuha brought you, too," she beamed. "I hope you don't think too badly of me after our meeting in the Snow Village!"

Tsukune wasn't sure how to answer that. Hell, he wasn't sure what to think of her. Such a sweet, beautiful woman who loved her sisters…who could half transform into a raging beast and run them over like a freight train while shedding psychotic berserker tears. He was trembling slightly just from being in her presence, remembering their last bloody encounter.

Regardless, he assured her there were no hard feelings, not wanting to be impolite, though subconsciously he took a small step back.

"Kahlua, what's going on?" Moka finally asked. "Where are we? Where has Akuha-neesan gone?"

"Oh dear, she really didn't tell you anything, did she." Kahlua rested her cheek in her hand. "Listen, you two. Right now we're aboard the Fairy Tale Zero Subdivision Homeship SSO1. Akuha brought you guys here yesterday, but the pilot was only given the order to lift off this morning." She walked over to the bed and took a seat on the rumpled covers. "As for Akuha, she's in the conference room, briefing the other division leaders on her latest status. Honestly," she huffed, "I got here last night and she still hasn't come to say hi to me. Someone needs to teach that girl proper behavior," she pouted.

While she went on about how hurt she was that her sister was slighting her, Tsukune was focused on only one thing she said. Fairy Tale.

_That's right… We're in enemy territory._

With all the spirited and eventful happenings yesterday, it had eventually slipped from his mind that he and Moka were essentially prisoners, captives surrounded by unknown numbers of hostile ayashi. Well, hostile to him at least. Akuha would never allow any harm to come to Moka, but despite yesterday's occurrences, he wasn't betting he had the same protection. He had allowed his defenses to be lowered, but that was something he couldn't allow to happen. Not in this situation. Moka may have been able to outclass him in combat skills, but he still felt he had to protect her from any danger.

"So why are you here?" Moka's voice broke into his thoughts.

Kahlua primly folded her hands into her lap. "Well, I just returned from the Snow Village to examine our project's latest progress, and I even ran into Kokoa and your witch friend during my stay."

"Kokoa and Ruby?" Moka blurted. "What were they doing there?"

"Apparently they had been summoned by the Snow Priestess, due to the effects our activity is having on the area."

Moka and Tsukune cast a sidelong glance at each other.

"A-activity? What are you talking about?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Akuha glanced around the darkened room, her elbows sitting atop the round table, her chin resting on her interlaced fingers. She didn't care much for these meetings. After all, Fairy Tale was a fairly loose organization. True, every commander there answered to a common superior, but as long as they didn't deviate from their shared purpose – the eradication of the human world – they were largely given free reign over how to conduct their division's operations. And while temporary partnerships were often formed between these divisions for any particularly challenging assignment that came along, theirs was not a rigidly structured and disciplined order. So why did they have to keep having these stupid debriefings?

"Akuha!"

The irritated voice caught her attention. Looking left towards the end of the conference table, she lowered her arms on the polished wood.

"Yes?"

The fuzzy image of their leader flickered. "I said, it's time for your report. Please begin."

The other television monitors around the table rotated, the figures on the other end giving their bemused attention to their fellow captain. Akuha scowled at some of the grinning faces. The nerve of them to seek enjoyment from her being reprimanded. There was Miyabi Fujisaki, that smug bastard, second in command of the Second Subdivision and Kahlua's superior officer. He always looked far too sure of himself whenever they were in each other's presence. As if she couldn't lop that ugly smiling head of his right off his shoulders. Well, perhaps she shouldn't. It might be frowned upon by the others – even if he wasn't a division leader, his commander had him speak at these meetings often enough as though he was. Still, if the reports were accurate, it was his latest joint-operation with the First Subdivision that led to Moka being gravely injured, and it was taking all Akuha's willpower not to try to reach through that screen and mutilate him. Not that that was possible, but still, it was satisfying to imagine.

"Of course," she said. "As you may or may not know by now, last night I brought Moka Akashiya onboard the ship, along with her interesting human friend, Tsukune Aono." She smirked, remembering the boy. "Both of them have been enrolled at the Youkai Academy chaired by Tenmei Mikogami, and Moka has been under his protection per the wishes of Akasha Bloodriver." At that she threw a satisfied look of her own at her colleagues. "I know that some of you have been planning to capture her yourselves, but there is no longer a need. She is safely aboard my ship and here she will stay, until the time is right. I will keep watch over her till then, and make sure she is set to play her part," she finished, pressing her fingertips together.

There were brief murmurs around the table before their superior's firm voice broke through. Now, however, it was touched with a hint of disdain. "Yes, you have done well, Akuha. With this, the goal of your division, along with the second's, fifth's and seventh's, are proceeding on schedule. The eggs continue to siphon off the spiritual energy from their host sites, and with Moka Akashiya in our grasp, the next stage will soon be set to commence."

Whispers of approval traveled throughout the room. Akuha glanced at Miyabi, pride written all over her face. To her ire, though, his usual self-assured demeanor did not change.

"Very well," the leader replied. "I've received copies of all your reports. Let this meeting be adjourned. Akuha, please remain for a minute longer."

The other screens rapidly went black, leaving Akuha alone in the room. Well, sort of. The imposing figure of her superior still flickered lazily in front of her.

"Akuha," the voice droned, "what is it you plan to do with that human? Why are you keeping him?"

The vampiress glanced down for a second. She should've known it was about that. How should she answer, though? Initially, she had captured him along with Moka for pure personal amusement. However, telling her commander the truth about last night definitely would not fly. She thought for a moment before responding. "Observational purposes," she lied firmly. "This human possesses some of my dear sister's blood in his veins, and I am interested in studying what effects it will have on his mortal body." (She didn't really care about how it would affect his body.)

"Is that so…" the leader asked, intrigued.

"Yes." Another idea struck her then. "What's more, he might be useful to ensure Moka's cooperation when we need it." Her heart beat a little faster. Would her leader see through this?

"I see," the voice replied airily. "Well, it's not as if you couldn't make the little girl obey anyway."

Akuha frowned, not liking the unpleasant tone her chief's voice took at that statement. But she held her tongue.

"And are you sure his presence will not be detrimental to our plan?"

Akuha glared at the screen, bitterness leaking through her words. "Don't worry. I don't plan on letting him corrupt Moka with his arrogant, anthrocentric views. I _could _be watching them right now, in fact, if you hadn't scheduled this ridiculous session."

"Check your tone, Akuha," her superior warned. "You and the others need to be kept aware of everyone's movements. These debriefings are not optional, and as a division leader, you are expected to do your duty and attend."

"Yes, yes," she replied impatiently. "I understand. And I have your assurance, right?" Her eyes narrowed. "No harm will come to Moka when we enter the next phase?"

The voice stayed silent a moment longer than Akuha would have liked, but then responded in the affirmative.

"Will that be all, then?" demanded Akuha.

"Yes. We will be in touch."

The large screen then went dead. Akuha rose from her seat and made for the exit, emerging into the more normally lit hallway. Once outside, the girl let out a great exhalation, her shoulders slumping from their usually proud posture. God, she hated this official, bureaucratic bullshit. She hated it, but she had been trained from a young age to obey the orders of her higher ups. There was no changing that now. Akuha Shuzen was a well oiled, perfectly tuned machine, and she would accomplish any mission that was given her. Still, that didn't stop her from fuming inwardly as she dragged herself through the corridor, thinking over the meeting. She had said she was keeping Tsukune as leverage against Moka just to provide a valid excuse, but it was true his life could be used as such, now that she thought about it, if she and Moka ever came to such antagonism. Although, Akuha was fervently praying they never would.

As she considered all this, her stomach suddenly growled noisily. She realized, she hadn't eaten anything all day, having risen early to prepare for her report and completely skipping breakfast; the meeting itself had lasted well over an hour. But now it was lunchtime, and Akuha suddenly had a lovely idea that smoothly washed away the vile torture of the meeting she had just been through.

_I have to alert the staff! _she thought, her legs gaining a surge of energy, enthusiasm propelling her to get everything ready.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"What…what did you just say?"

Kahlua looked apologetically at the two teens, who were struggling to take in the new information she had just relayed to them. Moka's gaze was cast down, reservation on her face.

"Eggs?" Tsukune asked, alarmed. "You – Fairy Tale – planted these eggs all over Japan, including Mizore's home? Why? What exactly are these eggs?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you any more than that," she said regretfully. "To be honest, even I don't know everything about what the organization plans to do with them. That information is reserved for the division commanders."

"So, would that mean Akuha knows?" asked Tsukune.

Kahlua nodded. "She is the captain of this division, yes, and this is essentially her base we are in." Turning her head towards Moka, she examined her little sister's face to try to gauge what she was thinking. "Moka…?"

"Then…" she paused, darkly staring at the floor. "That was the only reason you even attacked the village, wasn't it. And Akuha-neesan, she knew about this, too."

Tsukune wished he could take this all in as calmly as Moka was. But it was just too much. Some strange eggs that were draining the life from people's homes – Mizore's home – and all part of whatever diabolical scheme Fairy Tale to erase humanity. However, what really hit home, what made it even worse, was the sharp realization that, despite the extremely personal and intimate connection they had experienced yesterday, Akuha was still the enemy. She was still out to achieve a horrible end as part of this group. One night of unspeakably wild (and at first quite intimidating) sex wasn't going to change that. Tsukune chastised himself. At some point during the recreation, in the recesses of his mind, he had actually entertained the notion that perhaps Akuha wasn't so bad, despite all she had done, and that they didn't have to be pitted against each other. But that was naïve. She was part of Fairy Tale, and she had to be stopped. They all had to be stopped. Somehow.

He glanced over at Moka. She now appeared to be equally pensive, unsure what to think about her sisters with this new knowledge. Especially the eldest, since the two of them had performed such forbidden acts so recently.

Kahlua, no matter what one might say about her, didn't like seeing people upset. Least of all her sister and her cute friend. "Listen," she said, trying to be comforting, "Don't worry about all that. It's nothing you need to concern yourselves with. Try not to think about it if it bothers you. You should just relax and enjoy your stay here. I'm sure Akuha will be very accommodating."

Tsukune noticed she looked at Moka when she said that.

"I'll tell you what," Kahlua continued, fiddling with the earrings Tsukune well knew were anything but ordinary jewelry, "If you need anything, come and find me. I'm only here for a little while before I return to my own team, but I'll help you any way I can."

"Thank you," Tsukune said genuinely, and the elegant woman turned back to him with a cheerful smile. Although, truth be told he didn't know how much help she could really be. She was part of this organization, too, after all.

Their conversation over, Kahlua rose gracefully and smoothed out her gown. Before she could start for the exit, however, something very curious caught her attention. Her eyes flitted over the solitary bed, the coverlets and pillows disheveled, and Moka and Tsukune in clothes that seemed to be put on hurriedly. A small blush crept into her cheeks. "Oh my," she breathed, delicately placing her hand on her collarbone. The teens looked back at her with confusion. "Did you two…share this bed?"

"Ah!" Moka gasped. "Kahlua! How could you ask something like that?"

Tsukune avoided meeting her eyes. He ruffled nervously with the top button of his shirt. "Tha-That's none of your business."

"B-but that means…" Kahlua trailed off. Then, without warning, her face burst into an ecstatic grin and she clapped her hands together. _"My little Moka is a woman!"_

Moka had no time to answer that before she was once again tackled mercilessly to the ground. Propping herself up over her little sister, Kahlua wore a broad smile filled with pride, before swooping down to catch the girl in a crushing hug. For his part, Tsukune fidgeted nervously, uncomfortable at having their new sex life being brought up so casually. But Kahlua took no notice, grabbing her sister's shoulders.

"I can't believe it!" she squealed, bombarding a stunned and blushing Moka with questions. "Did it hurt a lot for you? Did you enjoy it? Was he good? He is quite cute, I suppose! Are you two really a couple then? Ohhh, Akuha is going to get a kick out of this," she grinned impishly.

"Akuha is going to get a kick out of what?"

Tsukune found it interesting how quickly the atmosphere of a room could change. The three of them had all been so distracted by the ruckus, they had not heard the door sliding open. Now, Akuha stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, eyes curiously scanning the scene before her. And Tsukune felt a subtle bristling on the back of his neck.

Suddenly embarrassed by her awkward position, Kahlua scrambled off of Moka and rose to her feet. She bowed elegantly before her older sister, a superior officer, seemingly unfazed by the situation she was in just a second before. It was only the endless lessons on how to be a proper lady she had received as a child that made it so effortless for her. "Greetings, Captain Shuzen," she said. "Thank you for taking the time to see me and showing me great hospitality on your ship."

Akuha dismissed her with a hand wave and a sigh. "Oh please, Kahlua. There's no need for that. You know I hate the goody-goody stuff. Besides, I'm not your division leader. I'm your sister. Don't be so formal."

Kahlua blinked, as if confused, then a moment later let her face relax back into its usual joyful expression. She almost looked a little relieved. "If you say so, Akuha!" she chirped. Moving forward, she embraced her sister, who hesitantly patted Kahlua on the back, clearly less comfortable with this display. "How have you been?" Kahlua asked, pulling away. "It's been such a long time, dear sister! And you didn't come to greet me last night. That was a bit unusual, for you not to be punctual…" At this, she arched her brow slightly. "May I ask what you were doing?"

Tsukune saw that he was not the only one Kahlua had a penchant for making uncomfortable, as the smallest hint of a blush crept onto Akuha's cheeks. He must've shown some amusement at her discomfort, for her eyes flashed almost imperceptibly at him in warning, and he swallowed, scared straight.

"I-I had urgent business to attend," she stated hesitantly. "That is all. Division leader issues, if you must know. But don't change the subject, Kahlua. I asked you, what am I going to get a kick from?"

Ignoring Moka's protests, Kahlua leaned forward and whispered excitedly into Akuha's ear. Pulling back a moment later, she saw that her sister's eyes had become saucers, and her face a tomato. "Oho, isn't it just the sweetest thing?" Kahlua cried happily, mistaking Akuha's blush as one of shock and surprise. Moka and Tsukune knew better.

Clearing her throat, Akuha glanced pointedly at Tsukune, with a look that demanded to know who had sung like a canary. To be honest, she wasn't even sure if her inclusion had been mentioned. "Y-yes, that is special news," she coughed. "Anyway, I'm sorry that I made you wait, Kahlua," she said, desiring to move away from that subject, much to Kahlua's sadness. She obviously wanted to gush about it some more. Akuha glanced to her right, where Moka had taken up residence on the bed. Try as she might to keep her serious attitude, her first sight of Moka for the day made her face involuntarily drop its firmness and break into a light smile. "In fact," she said, still looking at the white-haired girl, "let me make it up to you. It so happens I've asked the ship's cooks to prepare something extra special today, to celebrate the arrival of my beloved sisters. You will join us, won't you? They will still be busy in the kitchen for a while longer, but I would love to catch up with you and Moka until they're done. How about it?"

Kahlua pressed her hands together delightedly, her disappointment fading fast. "Of course! That sounds wonderful. So Moka is coming with us, too?" she asked, looking at the younger girl. Moka stared between her two sisters, wondering how much "catching up" she and Akuha had to do after last night. She tried not to look too flushed at the thought.

The eldest Shuzen nodded. "She is." She turned back towards the hallway and beckoned to them. "Come on, let's go talk more in my quarters. The staff has orders to bring us our lunch there when it's ready."

Inclining her head in assent, Kahlua walked past Akuha out into the hall. The oldest sister turned back to the room. "Follow me, Moka," she said.

Looking at each other, Moka and Tsukune felt they had no choice in the matter, even if they still felt uneasy from what Kahlua had said. Nevertheless, they made for the door, Moka in the lead. Whatever else they might feel about their current condition, they were getting hungry. Tsukune, however, still wanted to inquire about that dream she had mentioned, and made a mental note of it for later. Moka stepped out into the hall, but as Tsukune went to follow, Akuha's arm suddenly shot out to block his path. He froze; for a second he thought it meant she was going to slice him in half. "No," she shook her head. "You will not be dining with us, Tsukune. If you want to eat, you can go down to the common mess hall with the rest of the crew. I should warn you, though, they're not very fond of humans. Although you might've suspected that already, I guess."

With that, Akuha spun around and exited the room, leaving a bewildered Tsukune alone, by himself. "Be thankful I'm allowing you this much," her voice called back. "As a prisoner, I could just keep you in there and have them bring you scraps. Remember that."

Tsukune blinked. "What just happened?" he asked himself. "Was she that unpleasant yesterday?" He groaned, rubbing his hand over his face, unable to really remember much about last night except slick skin and moaning. "Guess she remembered she hates humans," he mused. "Well, I suppose that went about how I expected. I technically am a prisoner here, no matter what happened last night." He swallowed. "Maybe she regrets doing something like that? In any case, at least she's still treating Moka well. As long as Moka's safe, she can do whatever she likes to me. But, I have to think of a way for us to stop what Fairy Tale is doing, no matter what. Everyone's life depends on it."

Pondering the morning's events, Tsukune's thought was broken by a growl from his stomach. "Oh yeah, I should go look for some food." He left the room, glancing down both ends of the corridor, before sighing dejectedly. "Wait a minute. She didn't tell me where the mess is…"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Meanwhile…_

"So, it's settled then?"

The figures, no one of them in the same room, hunched over their monitors, gazing at the two other screens before them, perched along the edges of their tables. There was a palpable pause before another finally spoke.

"Moka Akashiya is with Division Zero. That means Akuha is going to be the one initiating the next stage of our plan, and soon."

A third figure chortled. "Of course, if that were to happen, she'd likely become the hero of the ayashi world."

The second man replied again, disapprovingly. "I wouldn't be surprised if they eventually named her one of the next great Dark Lords. But, as you both might expect, such a thing would hardly benefit us."

The third answered him. "Sooner or later, the other two current Dark Lords will die, and then, the time will be ripe for ayashi everywhere to name three new ones. And who better than us three, loyal members of Fairy Tale, who spearheaded the destruction of the human race? Our fame and glory will be great enough for us to be worshipped. And any past grievances any might have with us would vanish, naturally."

The three stayed silent for a moment. At last, the first man addressed them once more. "Very well. So it's agreed, my dear captains of divisions five and seven, we must obtain Moka Akashiya for ourselves. Our squads must work together for this." He grimaced slightly. "We would have had the sample we need already, from our mission with the First Subdivision. It was agreed the sample would be shared for our common goal. But apparently, they do not share our ends after all. That Kiria stole the sample away, and it is tightly secured within the squad's headquarters. But, rather than exert the time and manpower necessary to storm their base, I have a better idea." The other two could see a faint grin spread across the speaker's lips. "As luck would have it, one of my subordinates is currently aboard the SSO1, on leave visiting her sisters. I can instantly relay to her the decision we've come to, as she is in prime position to bring Moka to us."

"Do you think she will, Miyabi?" the second asked uncertainly. "Abduct her own sister?"

Miyabi stayed calm. "She knows she must follow orders, even when it comes to family. She will do it."

"And your own division leader," said the first. "Do you speak for him."

"I do," came the cool voice of Miyabi. "He supports our position. Don't worry about that."

The other two nodded gravely.

"Well, if that's all," he finished, "let's adjourn for now. I will contact you both again when I have Moka Akashiya in our custody."

"Very well," his partners agreed. "Until next time, then. Signing off."

All screens went blank.

_To be continued…_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As always, I give thanks to my readers, and thanks for the comments left so far. They're always appreciated. Side note, I think this might just be the first chapter I've written in a looooooong time that had no sexual scenes in it. Woohoo for progress! I'm actually kind of proud of myself for writing a completely plot and character driven chapter, and I hope it turned out well for you guys. Anyway, see you next time!


	4. For Want of Focus

**For Want of Focus**

Moka's eyes widened in appreciation at the sight that now greeted her.

For the past hour, she and her two sisters had been chatting casually in Akuha's room, seated around a square table across the room from the division captain's fairly large bed. Mostly, she had stayed quiet and let them do the talking, generally about distant relatives and how they were faring, or about the boring, menial aspects of their jobs (nothing important enough for her to pay attention to, however, that might give her some clues to Fairy Tale's schemings or weaknesses). Moka chimed in here and there, when they asked her how school was coming along, how her grades were, and if her teachers were satisfactory.

"You know, Moka," Akuha had said, "Our family has had a great deal of influence with that academy throughout its history. If you feel any of your instructors are not the best that the students deserve, let me know. I'm sure I could persuade the board to find ones who are more qualified." She smiled, and Moka returned it weakly, rubbing her heels against the plush carpeting, assuring her that everything was fine at school. She had neglected bringing up the Newspaper Club, due to their…awkward position of opposing the very organization her sisters were in. Perhaps for the same reason, it hadn't been a topic of their conversation either. She zoned in and out of the discussion, mind drifting to mundane things, like how Akuha was wearing a similar flower-patterned dress as yesterday, albeit with a white blouse beneath it this time. Her thoughts went deeper, as well, like to the "dream" she had had of her other self. If nothing else, talking with Omote assured her the gentle pinkette was still alright.

All that had gone on for a while, when suddenly there came a rap on the door, and a voice informing them their meal had arrived. Akuha gave them permission to enter, and three servants stepped into the room, each propping a large platter over his shoulder. They bent down to set them before the girls, and Moka took in the banquet with awe. Several large filets of tender beef, clearly cooked very rare – enough to seem like they were still bloody – Moka recognized this as delicious, and quite expensive, black wagyu beef; strips of what appeared to be some sort of uncooked ham – Akuha explained it was prosciutto, thinly sliced and salt-cured; an unfamiliar, yet still meaty stew with a variety of ingredients ("Fo tiao qiang," Akuha exclaimed, encouraging her little sister to try some. "It has Jinhua ham in it!"); and an extremely foreign-looking dish of an assortment of vegetables, rice and pork, all served atop a thin, circular bread – Moka had never heard of a fajita, but the combination of the rich, sizzling crackle and the smoky aroma was making her drool. A small cup of tea on each plate completed the spread. To Moka's chagrin, her former uneasiness was being washed away by this pleasant assault on her senses.

_Akuha-neesan always was the most carnivorous of us… _she mused hungrily, noting how the majority of the meal was meat of some kind. At this point, she couldn't think about much else beside the impressive layout before her. She quickly dug in, forgetting her usual reserve, sampling some of the beef. Her sisters joined her, clearly amused at her voracious appetite. Moka's taste buds were in heaven. She may have been absolutely atrocious at cooking herself (and strangely lethal), but even she could tell the chefs here were masters. _Fairy Tale must have no short of funds, to be able to afford this type of cuisine. _It was disappointing, she admitted, that Tsukune wasn't there to share this. She wished Akuha had let him join, but her sister's vampire pride must have resurfaced with a vengeance after last night.

"Enjoying, Moka?" Akuha's voice suddenly broke into her thoughts.

"Yes, very much so," the girl replied, remembering to finish chewing before speaking. Absent-mindedly, she turned her head to meet her sister's amiable gaze. She realized a second too late that might not have been the wisest move, for a sudden flash of memory from the night before rushed through her mind. Moka turned as red as the wagyu on her plate and quickly darted her eyes back to the table.

"Are you alright, Moka?" Kahlua asked, concerned. She glanced over at Akuha, whose face was also a light shade of crimson. "You too, Akuha?"

"It's the food," Akuha coughed. "It's hot."

Moka didn't respond. _That was too awkward, _she thought. _I can't look Akuha-neesan in the eye without seeing her in…that position… No! _She slapped both hands on her cheeks, ignoring her confused sister. _No! Don't think about that, Moka Akashiya. Quick, I must get another subject going._

Looking back up, she nodded. "Y-yes, I'm fine." There was silence for a few moments before she regained enough composure to speak calmly. An idea had popped into her head, but she was unsure how to ask. Or even if she wanted to know the answer. "So, I've heard you talk about how all our relatives are doing, but you haven't mentioned father once. Where is he?"

Akuha and Kahlua glanced at each other pensively. "Why do you ask?" asked the eldest.

Moka's brow furrowed as she took a spoonful of her stew, pausing. "My memory is pretty fuzzy about my childhood," she said at last. "I can remember my fights with Kokoa, and I remember you guys, as well. I can't remember much about my mother, though. I do recall that she disappeared to the human world when I was little, and I have memories of spending time with her at our home, but…in between that, it's just blank." She decided not to mention the faint, blurry image she'd gotten in her head only recently, of her mother and what must have been Akuha together. She couldn't tell what they were doing, however; that part was mysterious. And oddly, almost familiar. "But, I do remember we lived with our father. Even if I don't remember much about him, I know he was there. His name was Issa, right? It seems strange that neither of you have said anything about him so far." The two older girls still did not respond. Moka stared at them soberly. "Is he…alive?"

Struggling with how to answer, Akuha closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She lowered her fork and clasped her hands together. "Issa Shuzen," she stated, "…is alive." Moka saw Kahlua nod, and felt the faintest whisper of relief wash over her. "Though that is the most you can say for him. He is not well. He fell ill some time ago, and as a result has effectively stopped his normal activities as the head of our family." She quietly raised her cup to take a sip of tea.

Moka was confused. "What does that mean, then?" she asked apprehensively. "Is he going to be alright?"

Akuha put down the cup. "I don't know the answer to that, Moka," she said, her voice lowering a bit. "But as for what it means…" she paused. To Moka, she looked like she was thinking about something. Then a small smirk tugged at the eldest girl's lips. "It simply means that I have assumed those duties in his place."

Moka's eyes widened in realization. "You can't mean…?"

"Yep!" Akuha finished, proudly. "I'm the head of our family now, Moka."

Kahlua stole a surreptitious glance at her older sister, her forehead creasing. Akuha simply returned the look squarely. Sighing, Kahlua raised some food to her mouth and chewed daintily for a minute. "It's true," she said, seeing how Moka turned to her, almost in disbelief. "I told you I saw Kokoa and Ruby in the Snow Village, remember? I told them that Fairy Tale had the full support of the Shuzen family. What that meant was," she paused, glancing back at the eldest Shuzen, "Akuha has pledged our cooperation."

Moka's jaw was slack. "But-But why?" she demanded. Her calm was quickly being eroded as she remembered just what Fairy Tale had already done. "Why would you do such a thing, Akuha-neesan?" The two other girls would not meet her gaze, preferring to occupy themselves with nibbling small morsels of meat. This only made Moka more heated. "Why would you—both of you—join such an organization? You know what they're trying to accomplish, right? How could you do go along with it?" No response. "And you, Kahlua, you've always hated fighting with all your heart! So why? My own family." The girl was shaking faintly now, disturbed by the news.

"Moka," Akuha interjected, her voice solemn. "Please. Don't stress yourself over this. Maybe it's best if we don't discuss it."

Moka paused, her nails digging into her palms, then lowered her head in dejection. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Just tell me why," she murmured. "I can't understand it. You want to _kill_ every last human, and for what? Why? Please, tell me why..."

There was silence for a minute. Staring at the floor, Moka waited for an answer. She tensed slightly when she felt Akuha's cool hand gently cover her own. "Moka," the girl began, "It's simply the way it must be. Humans have been our enemies for as long as anyone can remember, and it's either them, or us. This is for our survival itself."

The white-haired girl clenched her teeth. Her mind was swirling with emotion. "You're wrong, Akuha-neesan." Looking back up, she met her sisters' eyes with a glare. "It's not like that at all. The human world—

"Moka." Akuha's voice was firm. Squeezing Moka's hand, she shook her head. "There's nothing more I can say. Fairy Tale's plans will move ahead. That's all there is to it. I'm sorry." She relaxed her grip. "I really hate seeing you upset."

"Me too," Kahlua echoed softly, folding her arms on the table. "But orders are orders, Moka," she said sadly. "That's how I was raised, at least. If this is our family's position, I have to honor that."

Moka was silent, feeling like a weight was pressing down on her heart. _What can I say? _she asked herself. _Are my own sisters really going to destroy everything we've all been working for? Everything Tsukune's been working for? _She lowered her gaze to the remnants of their lunch, her full belly weighing down on her further. "I-I can't believe it," she said. She turned to her eldest sister. "Akuha-neesan, what about Tsukune?"

The girl's eyebrow rose. "Hm?"

"What about Tsukune?" she repeated. "What's going to happen to him?"

Akuha sighed, reaching for a napkin. "Who knows? It depends on him, I suppose. If he doesn't make trouble, he should remain safe here with us. A prisoner, naturally, but safe."

"You should know," Moka growled, "he won't just sit quietly."

Wiping her mouth gingerly, Akuha shrugged her shoulders. "It's for his own good, you know. If he acts up, I can't guarantee his life will be spared. He might just get caught in the crossfire. But for the time being, I'm willing to keep him guarded as a favor to you, Moka. "

"That sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?" Kahlua chimed in, trying to appease her sister.

Moka felt her temper near boiling point. "A good deal?" Rising angrily, she slammed her hand down on the table. "Akuha-neesan, are you telling me you'll just let someone who's important to me die?"

Akuha looked up at the agitated girl, her face remaining calm. She folded her hands into her lap. "Weren't you listening? I'm saying I'm willing to keep him out of harm's way for you, if you keep him from doing anything stupid."

"And I'm telling you he won't sit back and accept that!" Moka shouted, returning her sister's gaze with disgust.

"Then I don't know what to tell you, Moka. If it comes to that, I won't hesitate to do what's necessary." Akuha sighed and shook her head, trying to placate her sister. "But come on, even if something does happen to him, would it really be the worst thing? He is just a human, when you get right down to it. Hardly worthy of someone like you."

_Ah. Maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to say, _she immediately realized.

Moka gave an incredulous laugh, her self-restraint breaking in an instant. "Just a human? Hah! Are you really saying that, Akuha-neesan? Does that explain why you decided to take him for yourself last night—_ah!"_

She froze, arms and legs stiffening as her words flowed through her own ears. Her anger vaporized into nothing. Stomach sinking like a stone, her eyes met the horrified gaze of her shocked sister. _I-I didn't mean—! _she wanted to say, but it was lodged in her throat. She could practically feel Kahlua's intense stare piercing them, though she was too terrified to turn in her direction. She hadn't meant to blurt that out, it had slipped! Akuha was equally aghast; the burning in her cheeks was threatening to consume her whole.

It felt like they remained motionless for hours. At last, Kahlua cleared her throat nervously. "A-Akuha…you did what? Did you sleep with Tsukune?"

Akuha couldn't look her in the eye, instead staring down at her plate. "I…I…you see," she spluttered. What could she say? Lying would do no good at this point, but there was no way she could admit to such a thing! "It's like this—

Kahlua didn't let her finish. "I thought you hated humans, Akuha. But, now you're telling me you slept with one?"

"N-no, it's not what you think!" Her protests were unsuccessful.

Kahlua's eyes narrowed in gentle warning. "Akuhaa," she said knowingly. "Come now, tell me the truth." She tried to hold the other girl's gaze, but Akuha seemed set on looking anywhere but at either of her two sisters. "I mean, I know he's handsome and all," Kahlua continued, a faint grin twitching her lips upward (which Moka noticed with surprise), "but it's just so unlike you. Are you thinking humans aren't so bad after all?"

"D-don't be silly," Akuha shook her head, beet red. "This doesn't change how I feel about them. It was a temporary lapse of judgment, nothing more."

"Um, Kahlua, I think you're missing the point here," Moka said gravely, slowly lowering herself back to her chair. "She took him. She did that to _my _Tsukune." She looked at them darkly. "I'm still upset with her."

Akuha darted her eyes back and forth frantically between her accusers, speechless. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she let out a sigh. "It's true," she conceded softly. "I did…sleep with him. But you've got to understand! I wasn't planning on it going so far. It was just supposed to be an interrogation. I had thought he tricked Moka into liking him, or something like that." She stole a glance at the girl, who scowled back at her, and quickly turned aside. "That's all it was supposed to be," she went on, fidgeting anxiously, "but…once I had tasted his blood, I lost control. I can't explain why, to be honest." There was something in her tone then that Moka couldn't quite place. "And Kahlua's right. He is somewhat attractive when you get a good look – you know what I'm talking about, right Moka?" She smiled feebly, as if hoping they could find common ground there. The girl didn't reciprocate, however, but still glowered quietly. Silence reigned for what seemed like minutes. Neither Akuha nor Moka were able—or willing—to look at each other. Kahlua, meanwhile, chewed her nail nervously, visibly saddened. She didn't want her two precious sisters to be fighting like this, and she was combating the urge to start crying. Blinking back gentle tears, her mind raced, trying to come up with something to say that would smooth this over.

All of a sudden, something occurred to her. Not a solution to the problem, but…something else. Lowering her brow, she contemplated this new thought, running her hand absently over the smooth, dark skin of her arm. "Guys, explain something to me," she said, still piecing together the puzzle in her mind. Moka and Akuha turned their attention toward her. "Akuha, you slept with Tsukune last night, right?" Her sister nodded weakly. Kahlua tapped a finger to her chin. "And then you got up early to go to your debriefing…?" Another nod. The dark-skinned girl frowned in concentration.

"What are you getting at, Kahlua?" Moka asked, a slight tinge of impatience in her voice.

For a moment, she didn't respond. Then, she seemed to regain her train of thought and continued. "But when I first saw Moka today, it was in a room on the lower level. And…Tsukune was there, too." She paused again. Suddenly, Moka's eyes widened as she began to catch on, though Akuha still seemed confused. "That's when I learned they had shared a bed." Akuha blanched; now she got the gist of it, too. Kahlua hesitated, eyes dancing from one sister to the other. "Does that mean, you both were…?" She trailed off, blushing heavily. "You know… With each other?"

A split second later, Akuha and Moka were both extremely grateful for the interruptive knock at the door. The color still drained from her face, Akuha shakily commanded them to come in, desperate for at any chance to leave that subject behind. Moka—also uncomfortable—watched as two well-kept men in sharp black uniforms stepped over the threshold, moved to either side of the door and saluted. The firearms holstered on their hips did not escape her notice, either. "Excuse me, ma'am!" said the first, addressing Akuha. His sunglasses blocked his eyes from view. "We have a situation in the mess hall. It's getting out of control. Even our guards have been unable to do anything. It—well, it might be better for you to come see yourself."

Akuha took in the information coolly, having mostly collected herself. She cast a suspicious glance in Moka's direction, which the younger girl merely returned with a defiant frown. "The mess, you say? It sounds serious." She paused, staring at the guard. "Very well. Lead me there," she said crisply. Rising from her seat, she made her way to the door. "Moka, you should come, too. I have a feeling this has something to do with him." The last word was emphasized. She gestured at her sister. Anxiously, Moka rushed to join them, worried that Tsukune was involved. It was then the second guard turned to the dark-skinned Shuzen and delivered his message.

"Lady Kahlua, there is a message for you in the comm room from Miyabi Fujisaki. He says it is important. Please, follow me."

At this, Akuha gave a start, feeling her stomach churn with revulsion. God, she couldn't stand that pretentious little worm. He practically screamed untrustworthiness. What did he want this time? Kahlua, however, simply took one last sip of her tea and rose quietly, falling in line behind the messenger's footsteps as he led her out of the chamber. Once they had departed, Akuha and Moka turned to accompany their own guard to their destination. Akuha scowled.

_And to think, I was in such a good mood. _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The shouts rang through the tumultuous hall.

"H-holy crap! Akita!"

"He got Akita! What the hell!"

"This guy's crazy! I'm staying out of this. If Akita couldn't beat him—!"

The scared protests of the surrounding audience reached Tsukune's ears, but he was largely oblivious to what they were saying. In one ear, out the other. He paid them little mind. All he could focus on—all he really felt—was the rush of energy coursing through his veins. The surging storm of power running from head to toe, giving him unmatched confidence, screaming at him to use his strength to take down his enemies. In the midst of such a brawl as this, perhaps that was all he _could _feel. Still, he made sure to keep his power in check, for he knew what might happen if things went too far. He had enough clarity of mind to know that would transform him into that—that _thing _again. He could not let that happen; he had to remain in control.

Panting despite himself, Tsukune stared ahead at his fallen opponent, one eye shut as blood streamed down from a cut in his forehead. Across the hall from him, now splayed painfully across a pile of upturned stools, was the rotund, amphibious Akita. Apparently the leader of a small clique among the ayashi here on the ship, as Tsukune had discovered. It hadn't been an ideal learning experience. There he was, just sitting down with his tray, minding his own business. The hall was much more spacious than Tsukune would have pictured (once he eventually found it), so there were plenty of spare tables in spite of the fair crowd. After filling his plate, Tsukune had inconspicuously made his way over to one and taken his seat; a few eyes turned toward him, recognizing a new guy when they saw one, but no one gave him any trouble. A few minutes had passed in relative silence, giving Tsukune a much needed chance to catch a breath and gather his thoughts – whether he was able to do something or not, he had to come up with a plan to stop Akuha and Fairy Tale, and get Moka out of there safely. He chewed slowly, his mind racing. Preferably, he could get Moka off the ship before acting, but that wasn't feasible; although it was distasteful to him to leave her in harm's way, he acknowledged he would probably need her help before long. Also, they had to get more information about those eggs Kahlua mentioned, and how to stop them. And of course, there were still the events of last night to think over, and how to deal with a soured Akuha. What should he do next?

This reverie had soon been interrupted by a foot kicking over the empty stool beside him. Swallowing his latest bite, Tsukune had looked up to find a group of ayashi glaring down at him. The one in front—slimy, green-skinned Akita—informed him this was their table, and that he could scram if he knew what was good for him. Tsukune didn't want any trouble, but he was a bit irritated at having been so rudely interrupted. "I'm sorry," he replied, straining politeness. "But I was here first. You guys can sit here, too, if you want, but I'm not just going to leave."

That had been his response. They didn't like it, one thing led to another, and now the whole gang was laid low throughout the mess. Tsukune's heart pounded rapidly as he watched Akita give one last groan before slipping into unconsciousness. His vision was practically red. The euphoric rush he felt in his blood had him almost hoping someone else would attack, just so this heady rush wouldn't have to end. But the other ayashi there didn't make a move; they steadily backed away from the fearsome newcomer, leaving Tsukune alone in the middle of the encircling onlookers.

In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to compose himself, now. He knew he could only keep himself under control so far before he went truly berserk. And so, he breathed. In, and out. Repeat. As he turned heel and made his way out of the circle, he let the air fill his lungs and leave them. He felt the effects of the vampire blood slowly start to recede, bringing his energy levels back to normal. No one said a word. Suddenly, everyone jumped in surprise as the double doors to the hall slammed open, and an angry voice echoed through the room.

"What in the world is going on here? Who's responsible for this?"

Tsukune gulped, recognizing Akuha when he heard her. He turned and saw the crowd frantically dispersing back to the remaining upright tables as she walked to the center of the room, looking to the fleeing crew for some sort of explanation. His spirits were lifted slightly to see Moka there, as well, trailing behind her sister. She looked concerned, casting confused glances about the disheveled mess hall, and Tsukune felt a pang of guilt for almost allowing himself to lose control. Moka wouldn't want him to risk that.

Finally, one of the crew answered her by pointing nervously at Tsukune. "He is, ma'am. He beat up ol'Akita over there." Spotting the boy in the center of the upheaval, Akuha grimaced.

"I should've known this had something to do with you," she said, loud enough for him to hear.

"Tsukune!" The voice was Moka's. Without hesitation, she brushed past her sister and hurried to Tsukune's side, chewing her lip nervously as she examined him. "You're hurt," she muttered. Tenderly, she reached up to his brow to look at the small wound there. Her thumb ghosted over the hurt flesh, taking on a drop of the blood. Almost unconsciously, she brought the finger to her lips, and her tongue swiped out subtly to clean the fluid. Tsukune gulped at the intimate act.

"M-Moka," he stuttered, "I'm ok, really. Just a few scrapes. Look over there, I think those guys are in much worse shape than I am." He pointed ahead at his opponents, sprawled on the ground. As he looked over them, he felt a brief swell of pride, and a faint grin tugged the corner of his mouth. Not that he liked beating people up, but he really had gotten stronger. Puzzled, Moka followed his gaze to the defeated ayashi, then matched his grin with one that reminded him of her usual cockiness. Of the pure confidence of the girl he fell in love with. He had missed those sweet smirks.

"Good to see our training's been paying off." She gave him an affectionate jab on his shoulder. "Did you really get in a fight with all those guys? What were you thinking?"

"It wasn't my intention," Tsukune said. "They kinda just…came at me."

Moka raised her brow, looking around again. "That's pretty impressive, Tsukune. Though, I still doubt you could go toe to toe with me. That could take years of practice." Tsukune laughed at her teasing. "But don't go landing yourself in any more trouble," she said sternly. Dabbing her already moistened thumb with saliva, Moka gently rubbed at the dirt on Tsukune's face. Her heart felt lighter now; she marveled at how something so simple as knowing he was safe could bring her out of her earlier mood. The argument with her sisters was swept away for the time being. Turning around, she called out to the older girl. "Akuha-neesan, we need to get him some first aid for these bruises," she said. "Do you have an infirmary?"

Akuha stared at them speechlessly, her eyes narrowed in a glare. There it was again. From the moment Moka rushed by her to get to Tsukune, she had felt the pointed stabs of jealousy. Why did her beloved Moka like this guy so much? Why did she leave her side the instant she saw him? No. Now wasn't the time to think about that. There were other matters to consider. Shaking herself out of it, Akuha stepped forward and grasped Tsukune's chin firmly. She turned his head from side to side, inspecting the damage. "Yeah, we'll get him cleaned up. And on the way," she said, addressing him, "you can tell me why you decided to start wrecking havoc on my ship. Then you can spend some time in the brig, until you've learned to behave properly. I can't have you incapacitating my subordinates."

Moka's protests rang on deaf ears as they proceeded out of the mess hall, the older girl in the lead. Tsukune simply shrugged in resignation, gradually getting used to being treated like a captive. Akuha, however, had become unusually intrigued. Despite her initial displeasure at the mayhem the boy had caused, she couldn't help being greatly bewildered. She knew the blood of the Shinso flowed within him, but still, to possess that much power—the ability to thoroughly beat down a gang of ayashi. Was his blood really that potent? He was definitely stronger than she had thought.

_I'll give him one thing. There's more to this human than meets the eye._

And together, the three of them made their way back into the ship's corridor, leaving the monstrous wreckage behind them.

_To be continued…_

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Thanks for all the feedback folks! And just in case anyone was wondering,

Edit: The link doesn't show up, so if you're curious just search Fo tiao qiang on wikipedia.

I was quite hungry when I started the chapter. Which accounts for my very novice attempt at a bit of food porn.


	5. For Want of Preparation

**For Want of Preparation**

_Fifty-five…sixty-one…sixty-eight… Ugh._

Sitting up with a loud groan, Tsukune blinked his eyes several times. They felt a tad dry after counting the number of chalk-white tiles on the walls and ceiling of his cell for the third time. He dug the heels of his hands against his forehead. _How long have I been here? _There was no clock in sight, and the armed guard standing beyond the metal bars of the room hadn't exactly been forthcoming. _It's definitely been hours, _Tsukune mused. He cast a glance around the cell again. It was a fairly large chamber, leading him to suspect that despite its current emptiness, it was built to hold more than one prisoner. The floors were bare, and a small, crude bench jutted out from each of the three pale walls. Tsukune had tried taking a nap on one of them earlier, but his mind was too active. Plus, it had probably still been the middle of the day, and the bench wasn't even wide enough to cover his entire back. Eventually, he had simply plopped down on the floor, unexpectedly drowsy, and fallen asleep, only to wake a while ago. And thus, he'd begun his counting.

_I wonder when Akuha's going to let me out of here. _He sighed. _Geez, I hope she didn't forget about me. No, Moka's here, too. She'll remind her. But…will she listen if Moka asks for my release? I'm not so sure about that._

Tsukune rose and stretched up towards the ceiling, savoring the soothing feeling of relaxing muscles. Ahead of him, the guard remained stoic and silent in his duty, his back to the prisoner. He couldn't see the man's face, but he imagined it was devoid of expression. Gritting his teeth, Tsukune tried calling to him once more. "Excuse me!" No answer. He continued anyway. "How long have I been in here? Do you know when I'll be allowed to go? Please, at least say something. I want to make sure Akuha hasn't forgotten I'm here."

A moment later, a sudden noise gave Tsukune a start. It wasn't the guard; he hadn't moved an inch. The door at the end of the hallway had opened, and a few moments later Akuha came into view beyond the metal bars, flanked on both sides by her sisters.

_Speak of the devil, _Tsukune thought wryly. The eldest Shuzen looked irritated, while Moka had relief in her eyes. Kahlua, he noted, looked anxious; her attention seemed elsewhere as she walked down the hall, her forehead creased lightly. But he paid her little mind. He was more interested in the cause for the visit.

Reaching his cage, Akuha gestured her head towards the guard. "Hey, you. Let him out." The man bowed in response and a minute later, Tsukune was outside the cell, warmly meeting Moka's gaze. She was sure a sight for sore eyes. "You should thank her," Akuha's voice cut in. "Moka convinced me to let you out a little early. I'd planned on keeping you in here until we'd finished up with today's mission, but I can't say no to her." A faint blush crossed her cheeks.

"Mission?" Tsukune echoed, confused.

Akuha turned to the white-maned girl. "Moka, do you want to explain it to him?"

The girl nodded. "Tsukune, Akuha-neesan said we're going to visit the home of the succubi, at the grottos of Yomotsu. We're both joining her for the trip."

Tsukune blinked, his mind suddenly flashing to Kurumu. He wondered for a second how she was faring. He hadn't thought much about the kind-hearted, compassionate girl since he'd been brought aboard. Or any of their friends, for that matter. He felt a faint twinge of guilt. But now, they were going to the gentle succubus' homeland? Well, he assumed it was her home. He realized he wasn't actually sure where Kurumu was born, or raised. Glancing over at Akuha, he brought his attention back to the present. "Yomotsu? I've never heard of it. Why are we going there?"

Akuha lazily dragged her fingers over the cold steel bars, returning the boy's gaze. "It's Fairy Tale business," she said. "You may not have heard of it, but the succubi of Yomotsu are a significant force in our world. They may be reclusive, down underground, but they…well, it might be a stretch to say they're 'respected', but they are quite influential among other groups and races. It would do Fairy Tale well to have them support our operations." Pausing, she motioned them to start walking with her. They slowly began trudging down the near empty hallway. "We haven't really had official dealings with their governing body, and my superior feels it would be in our best interest to make contact and establish good relations with them, if possible. We sent a couple of advance agents to set up a meeting for us, and with any luck, we'll get confirmation from them soon and make our landing."

Tsukune frowned slightly, processing all of this, now that he finally knew where the ship was headed. "Wait just a minute, Akuha. Why do you say they're influential?"

They had passed through the door out of the detention block and reached the nearby elevator. Stepping inside, Akuha pressed a button, and the doors closed. "I say it because they are," she answered sarcastically. Tsukune looked at her impatiently. She chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, I know that's not what you meant. It's simple, though. Succubi can be very persuasive when they want to be. They have a knack for getting others to agree with them, to see things their way." She paused. "If we can get them on Fairy Tale's side, other groups who are undecided about us will be more likely to follow."

This sounded familiar to Tsukune. _Is she talking about their Charm ability? _The elevator buzzed as it hit their floor, and the doors slid apart. Together, the four of them got off. "Okay," he said hesitantly. "So then, why are you taking me?"

Ahead of him, Akuha smirked slightly. "As I said, I did it for Moka. She wanted you let out sooner rather than later, and I decided to oblige her. Although, it didn't hurt that she said you could be beneficial to our efforts. She told me the two of you have some connections to the succubi that could help us in our negotiations. Especially you," she added. "I trust Moka, and I believe your presence there could make things easier for us, if necessary."

Tsukune's brow furrowed in concern. He turned to glance at Moka. _What was she thinking? _he wondered. Why would she have agreed to help Fairy Tale in any way?

As if sensing his consternation, Moka gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Tsukune," she said. "I know it's not ideal, but I didn't want Akuha-neesan to leave you in there for that long, treating you that way."

Tsukune frowned. Before he could open his mouth to protest, however, Akuha interrupted him, looking sour at the care her sweet sister showed him. "Don't worry. I know Moka's not fully on board with us yet. I don't think she would've agreed to do this if I expected you to actively help us when we arrive. All I need is for you to be present, and then we'll use your connections to Kurumu and Ageha Kurono if we need to – if it looks like things aren't working out."

They passed a few guards stationed by sealed doors. They leered disgustedly at Tsukune, but he truly didn't care at the moment. "I don't like this," he said. "I won't let you make me and Moka pawns for your scheme."

"You don't have a choice," Akuha retorted. "You're coming, and that's that. Unless you want me to just throw you back in the cell? Was a whole night not enough?"

"I'd rather be there than helping you." His teeth were clenched defiantly, his muscles tensed.

"Tsukune, no!" Moka firmly grasped his arm, her touch instantly easing his nerves. "I don't like the way she's treating you, but I don't want you stuck down there again." Her eyes were firm and willful as she met his gaze. "I told Akuha-neesan you have the favor of both Kurumu and her mother, and she agreed that if it could help her, she'd free you early."

The boy was at a loss for words. They had now arrived back in Akuha's quarters. The division captain moved to the mirror on her dresser, occupying herself with the hairbrush that lay beside it. "But…Moka," he stuttered, "I can accept being imprisoned. I can't accept giving Fairy Tale our help."

There was silence for a moment. Chewing her lip, Moka stole a glance at Akuha, whose back was to them, before mumbling, "I know. But I think it'll be alright." Her voice was husky. Then, turning back to Tsukune, she made sure she had his attention before quietly muttering, "Trust me."

Tsukune's brow lifted, puzzled. _What is she talking about? Moka's acting a little strange…_

"It's a good idea." Kahlua's voice came as a surprise to Tsukune and Moka. The elegant woman had been so quiet the last few minutes, they had almost forgotten she was there. Tsukune turned to look at her – she had noiselessly moved over to take a seat on the bed. There was still something different about her, he noticed. Her usual soft demeanor was missing. She looked, well, troubled – her hands clasped tightly together, her eyes focused on the floor. "Akuha's right. We probably won't need you, but it's best to have a backup, just in case. Succubi value their kin, and the people they have relationships with. Especially if those people are men."

Moka suppressed the annoyance that brought. "Kahlua, you're coming, too?" She glanced at her sister. A soft smile crossed the young woman's face and she nodded, briefly looking up at the duo before refocusing on the ground.

_Speaking of acting strange, _Tsukune thought. "Is something wrong, Kahlua?" he asked.

The dark-skinned girl's eyes widened, but then she vigorously shook her head. "Not at all. I…I just didn't get such a good sleep last night. It's nothing, really." Tsukune frowned. Both sisters were arousing his suspicion. He noted, with a touch of amusement, the irony of how Akuha seemed the most normally behaved of the girls at the moment, still tending to her hair, whistling jauntily.

However, despite her nonchalant appearance, Akuha was also suspicious of the blonde vampire. Her eyes examined her face through the mirror's smooth reflection. Ever since yesterday, she had found Kahlua's behavior fishy. It was after that call she had received from Miyabi, in fact. Did that have something to do with it? What did he say to her? She had voiced these questions to her sister last night, but Kahlua was dodgy in her answers, telling Akuha that Miyabi had merely been checking in for a status update, and there was nothing wrong – that Akuha must be imagining things. Not that she believed that for a second. She decided not to press the matter, but had been keeping an eye on the girl since. For her own concerns, yes, but also for Kahlua's sake. Akuha sighed. Moka might be her pride and joy, but she still cared for all her sisters. And when it came to Kahlua, well, she sort of felt a strange kinship with the graceful girl. Both raised to be deadly assassins, efficient in their roles like no other to the point of knowing little else; both having to take on the role of eldest sister at different points in their lives; and then there was the interesting contrast of Kahlua's childish demeanor, complemented by Akuha's—the eldest sister's—more childish figure. Two sides of the same unusual, yet powerful coin, they were. She valued Kahlua and her friendship. The dark-skinned girl knew, just as well as Akuha, the burdens and sacrifices that came with life in the dark underground. Akuha appreciated this; they shared that bond, and she valued it. Although Kahlua, like everything else, paled next to Moka's pure, undying radiance – but that was to be expected.

Lost in her swirling thoughts, Akuha was quickly jolted back to the real world a moment later as a knock came at the door. A messenger stepped in and with a sharp salute, addressed his commander and spoke.

"Ma'am, we've received word from our scouts. The Matron has agreed to speak with you in the Hall of Innocence, just as you wished. "

Under her breath, Tsukune heard Akuha mutter, "We really need to install an intercom system." She paused, then addressed the messenger. "Remind me to put in the order for one, understand? You're a good officer, but announcements like these could easily be delivered much faster."

The messenger nodded, undeterred. "Yes, ma'am. In any case, all the arrangements for the meeting have been made. I can inform you more of them as you depart. However, I must let you know that the Matron is wary, and requests you only bring a small number of companions with you. For her safety, she says. Shall we tell her that is unacceptable?"

Although she was turned away, Tsukune caught a glimpse of Akuha's face in her mirror; a small grin spread across her lips. "That won't be necessary, Hayate," she said sweetly. "It is perfectly acceptable and we'll be happy to oblige her."

The man called Hayate nodded and paused. "Very good, ma'am." He glanced around the room at his commander's companions with clear curiosity, especially when his eyes settled on Tsukune. He paused, examining the unusual guest, seemingly intrigued, before clearing his throat softly. "We will be above the landing point in several minutes. Are you all ready?"

"We are." She turned to face them, returning her brush to its spot on the dresser. "Give the pilot the order to descend." Saluting again, the guard departed, and the door closed behind him. Akuha smiled at her guests. "We're landing outside the cavern system, so we'll be on foot until we reach the central dome. And look sharp. We want to make a good impression."

Tsukune swallowed. He knew his face must be etched with worry right now, but he had to keep a strong heart for Moka.

_It'll be alright. Trust me. _Those were her words. But, he still wasn't sure what she meant. Staring ahead absently, he suddenly realized this was his first time in Akuha's room. And here he had thought the only areas of the ship he would see were the mess and the cell. He looked around then, taking in his captor's living conditions. Interestingly, it wasn't substantially nicer than the room he had first awoken in at the beginning of this ordeal. A large room, plush carpeting, a stately bed adorned with beautiful violet draperies, finely-crafted furniture. He'd seen those things in that room, as well. One thing he hadn't seen there, however, caught his eye in that instant. Atop the small, wooden table at the head of Akuha's bed, next to a clock and a small stack of books, was mounted a small picture frame of gleaming gold. Tsukune squinted, trying to make out the picture within. It was small, and he was on the other side of the room. A loud clap, however, prevented him from glimpsing it, and he turned back to Akuha, who was ready to depart.

"Alright then, is everybody set?" The girl paced through the room to the exit, motioning for the others to follow. "Let's go."

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Tsukune was terrified.

Having at last descended below the clouds, he had stepped onto solid ground for the first time in days. They had docked in a remote area by the sea, facing a colossal network of rolling green hills further inland, which he was informed were the exteriors of the subterranean domes of the succubi. Just behind the airship, the ground ended in a sheer precipice, the unyielding cliff face plummeting below to greet the thunderous white-capped surf that washed violently over harsh rocks.

It was—to his and Moka's dismay—to this exact spot they had to travel to reach the entrance to the caverns. On foot. Down the alarmingly narrow trail that jutted out from the dark, wind-swept bluff. Tsukune glanced ahead for a moment, hesitant to tear his eyes away from the treacherous path. Not surprisingly, Akuha and Kahlua were having no trouble at all, making the downward trek with ease. Even Moka, behind him, was keeping her balance better than him, although not by much. The two guards trailing them looked uncomfortable, as well. _I guess it was better that it was just six of us, after all, _he mused. _It would be a much bigger hassle if there were more people trying to go down this way. _Tsukune's heart suddenly caught in his throat as his foot slipped outward, throwing him to his hands and knees, his left leg dangling in the empty air. With a shout, Moka got the others' attention and quickly helped Tsukune regain his footing.

Akuha turned. "Be careful back there." Her voice carried. "It won't get any easier as we get closer, and a fall from here would probably kill a human like you. Even I would be laid up for a few days. And we can't have you dying when we still have a use for you." She turned back around and continued on her way, Kahlua trailing behind. "We're above the mouth of the cave now, but still a ways from the bottom. Watch yourself."

Moka gripped Tsukune's hand firmly, as if protecting him from an unfavorable drop. _Then again, _he considered, _a hassle for Fairy Tale wouldn't be the worst thing. It might even lessen their numbers if they all fell here. _He frowned then, scolding himself. _No. Whoever they may be, I shouldn't just wish for their deaths. Not when we're trying to create a peaceful world for them and humans. Even if they are Fairy Tale. I mean, it's not like I'm wishing for Akuha or Kahlua to die, either. If only we could find a way to stop the fighting, somehow… _He sighed, and looked back at Moka. Her brow was creased in worry. Seeing this, Tsukune squeezed her hand in return. Her presence was a comfort to him, although he was still in the dark about what she was thinking. It definitely felt like there was something she wasn't telling him. But that would have to wait. Nervously, he started forward again, one foot cautiously in front of the other. He couldn't afford to get distracted again, or his next step might be his last.

Finally, the group found themselves at the bottom of the path, feeling the cool, briny spray on their faces. They stared into the gaping maw that towered over them, its darkness swallowing the light that entered the cave. "Alright," Akuha said, "Now it's about a few miles' walk till we reach our destination. A contact will meet us when we enter the city to take us to the main hall, but we're on our own for now. Come on." She led them forward, the group moving to the right; on their left, the salt water flowed in from the sea, passing deeper into the cavern. Soon enough, all light was extinguished, and Tsukune couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. Luckily, Moka took hold of his wrist and led him, smiling in the gloom.

"Our eyes help us in the dark," she said. "Just don't lose contact with me, Tsukune, and you'll be fine." From there on, they all walked in silence, with only their quiet breathing for noise. Tsukune savored Moka's soft, warm hand clutching his. He could almost feel his beloved's heartbeat through their touch. They walked steadily through the colossal tunnel. Before long, he realized he no longer heard the water's rush under them; it must have branched off in another direction. Moka confirmed this, telling him the river had passed beneath a low archway a while back, perhaps into a different section of the cavern.

As more time passed, Tsukune's feet began to ache. He was about to call out to ask how much further it was, when suddenly, he could see ahead. Well, almost. What his eyes could make out were two glaring lights off in the distance. They illuminated the surrounding brown stone, allowing Tsukune to observe that the ceiling was gradually sloping down, and the walls inclining inward. Also made visible by the lights—he could now tell they were lanterns—was a large door, guarded by two humanoid figures. As they neared the door, Tsukune couldn't help staring at it. He had never seen something like this. It seemed to be covered in thick, wet vegetation of various kinds – leaves, vines, and most visibly an amply-sized pink flower, its moistened petals in full bloom. Tsukune wondered how such things could grow all the way down here, and even more so what an unusual door it was. He was shocked further to see how bizarre the beings before the entrance were: hunched over, their gray skin more resembled dark boulders than flesh; powerful, bulging muscles in their arms and legs trailed down to drill-like talons extending from stubby digits; their gargoylish wings fluttered softly as they stared ahead with beady eyes. Not to mention—and this made Tsukune's eyebrow raise—they appeared to be quite naked, and quite well-endowed. "Uhh, what are those?" he called out, to no one in particular.

"Of course, you've never been here, so you wouldn't know," Akuha replied. "Neither have you, right Moka?"

The girl shook her head. "No. I've never seen the succubi's homeland. Kurumu never talks much about it, either."

Tsukune blinked. It struck him that in all the time they had known each other, he'd never heard Kurumu say a word about this place, either. _I wonder why that is._

"They're incubi." Kahlua's voice echoed gently in the cavern. Tsukune turned to squint at the beautiful assassin.

"Incubi?" he repeated. That term sounded familiar to him. They were related to succubi somehow, weren't they?

"That's right. They are essentially the male counterpart of the succubus." By this point, Tsukune and Moka had caught up to the sisters' fast pace. Kahlua continued. "I remember father explaining a little of it to me last time we came here. What was it he said?" She paused, tapping her finger against her cheek. "That they're a rarely seen type of ayashi, and stay mostly in Yomotsu, I think."

"Why is that?" Moka inquired. Kahlua turned to her, and just for a second, Tsukune thought he saw her eyes falter at the sight of her little sister.

"I-I don't really remember," she confessed. "Father said a lot of things, but it's all kind of fuzzy. I guess I wasn't paying good attention." She blushed, embarrassed. Tsukune absently noticed that she looked pretty cute with red-tinted cheeks, then immediately chastised himself for the thought.

They had now reached the tall, floral doors. Akuha glanced at them. "We can talk about this more inside. Let's go, we're on a schedule." Approaching the two heavyset incubi, she bowed slightly, pressing her fist against her palm. "I am Akuha Shuzen," she spoke clearly. "I'm here on business for Fairy Tale, and request that you let us in. Your Matron is expecting us, and we're supposed to meet someone who will guide us to Hall of Innocence. Please let us through and we'll be on our way."

At that, the sentries stared blankly at each other, then turned back to the group and nodded. Stepping back, their movements an odd mirror image of each other, they stretched out their powerful arms and dug their claws into circular notches on either side of the door. Tsukune heard a loud clicking sound, like a ponderous switch being thrown, and a moment later the center of the large flower seemed to open up – a gaping hole that slowly spread, growing wider, the dew-dripping petals folding back as they were pulled apart.

And then, silence.

The door was open, and a bright light shone forth, spilling out into the tunnel. Following the three sisters, Tsukune's eyes narrowed, readjusting to the brightness as they crossed the threshold. When he could finally see again, they had already entered the succubus city.

Casting his gaze ahead, Tsukune was amazed by the sight that greeted them.

_To be continued…_

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Thanks for all the feedback and favs everybody!


	6. For Want of Composure, Pt 1

Hey all, sorry for the delay. This chapter ended up being quite longer than I'd originally thought. Things just tend to expand that way sometimes, I guess. Thanks for all the feedback and faves!

**For Want of Composure, Pt. 1**

"Hey, aren't we underground?"

Those were the first words out of Tsukune's mouth upon entering the succubus city. Beside him, Moka was equally awed.

"Now that is impressive," she said. For high above, the lofty roofs of the colossal caverns arched over them, blanketing the place from the outside world. Tall buildings, choked with thick vines and moist foliage, soared straight up beyond the streets – the largest of which were connected to each other at various levels by distant walkways. Spires and domes tipped off many of the structures overgrown with vegetation, giving the city the appearance of a metropolitan jungle. This wasn't the most impressive part, however. What really caught their eye was the way the ceiling had been painted to so perfectly resemble a bright, sunny day. Indeed, for a second, Moka had almost mistaken it for the actual sky. What's more, they noticed, the faux sun even appeared to glow, bathing the countless inhabitants on the streets below in a dazzling light. "How do you suppose they do it?" she asked.

"I've heard the succubi can be quite artistically gifted," said Akuha. "I mean, when your primary trait as a species is sexual, you have to find other conduits for your massive stores of energy. Otherwise, nothing would ever get done. You'd just be screwing around day and night." Glancing at Moka and Tsukune, she blushed, her mind suddenly flashing back to that very physical night they had shared. Thankfully, they didn't seem to notice. She cleared her throat. "I-it just so happens the succubi put that extra energy into creativity, whether art, music, whatever. They put a lot of effort into that artificial sky."

Tsukune wondered briefly if Kurumu had any special artistic talent they didn't know about. His attention, though, was quickly taken elsewhere as he caught a good glimpse of the people traversing the city blocks before them. Succubi. Hundreds of succubi making their way across town, by foot or by wing, most dressed in impossibly revealing clothing. Some of the more close by (and scantily clad) ones had paused to take notice of the four new guests, and, hovering a short ways above the street, were even eyeing Tsukune up and down. They really did look similar to Kurumu, he thought, albeit with far more lusty looks in their eyes. Their _alluring_ eyes…their intoxicating and sexy eyes…their—

"Oi." A poke in the back from Moka broke his reverie. "What're you looking at, Tsukune?" He realized then he'd been staring intently at one of the voluptuous ayashi—who now departed with a few amused giggles—as if lost in a trance. He had been totally focused on her gaze, so inviting had it seemed, so hypnotic, like it was beckoning him to a world of delight beyond anything a mortal could know – a world he had almost felt unable to refuse.

"Ah, sorry Moka," he said sheepishly. "I-I was just looking at the nice painted sky. Yeah, that's it! Look at how pretty it is. The sun even moves! How do they do that?" Moka simply stared at him through her lashes, unconvinced.

Kahlua let out a soft chuckle. "I'd be careful about keeping eye contact with strange succubi for too long," she explained, tearing her eyes away from the same spot. "The women who've reached adulthood can ensnare others in an instant with their Charm, and some won't hesitate to do so. Then you'll really have to explain yourself to Moka!" She laughed again, causing her younger sister to frown, not amused. "But seriously, Tsukune, watch yourself. They won't hesitate to try and seduce people. Especially when it's a handsome young man like you."

Whether she didn't see or simply ignored Moka's raised eyebrow at that statement, Tsukune wasn't sure. Nevertheless, he thanked her nervously for the compliment, while Akuha sighed and turned around. "Anyway," the eldest began, "we must be on our way. Our guide's going to meet us in the square just a couple of blocks down. Come on, you guys. Oh, and Kahlua is right. Don't get Charmed. It would be a big inconvenience for us. Although maybe I shouldn't be telling you that…"

Tsukune scowled as they crossed the street, being reminded of the ugly mission they were on, and how he was actually supposed to be an asset to benefit Fairy Tale. Of all things! He had half a mind to purposefully get Charmed, if it would make trouble for Akuha. But he quickly dismissed the thought. _That would be stupid. Plus, Moka said it would be alright, and I trust her. I'll have to go along with it for now._

Shortly, they reached the crowded square where their guide was to meet them. However, no one there seemed to recognize them, or called out to them as a host looking for her party would. Instead, endless swarms of busy succubi scurried by – ants under the hundred-foot high structures of steel beams, hanging vines, and majestic, rotund domes. "Strange," Akuha muttered. "They were supposed to be here before us, but nobody around looks like they'd be our guide." She paused, a sigh escaping her lips' barrier. "Kahlua, do you see anyone?"

To his side, Tsukune noticed Kahlua was fidgeting nervously again. The girl shook her head no. "I don't. So…what should we do?" she asked her elder sister. "Now that we've got some time to kill."

"Ugh, nothing to do but stay here and wait," Akuha replied, exasperated. "We don't exactly know the way to the Hall of Innocence ourselves, and even if we did, they might not accept us without our escort."

"Oh," Kahlua said tacitly. Casting a quick glance at Moka, then another at the stores and markets that were in sight, she spoke again. "Well, instead of all of us just waiting here, why don't we split up a have a look around for a few minutes? It's not like we're here a lot, might as well take in the sights. Moka, would you care to join me?" she asked hopefully.

"Forget it," Akuha shook her head. "Who knows when our guide will show up? We shouldn't be wandering aimlessly all over the city when they arrive."

Kahlua was upset. It was hard enough steeling herself to do something like kidnap Moka (again), but it didn't help when the chances she'd mentally prepared for were dashed. "It's not all over the city, Akuha," she protested. "Just around this area, I promise. Come on, only for a few minutes? Have a heart, sis."

Akuha paused, looking hesitant. Moka chimed in next. "Actually, Akuha-neesan, I'd kind of like to walk around for a little bit, too. At least until the escort gets here. How about ten minutes? Is that okay?"

The older girl sighed, then finally acquiesced. "Fine. If you want to Moka, then yes. I'll wait here in case anyone shows up. The three of you have ten minutes to explore, then check back here with me."

"Ah, wait!" Kahlua opened her mouth to protest Tsukune coming along. He would make it much more difficult to carry out her assignment. Oh, he wouldn't pose a physical obstacle, to be sure. She could easily brush him aside like a set of swinging doors. Of course, that would put Moka on her guard, and then she'd have a real fight on her hands. There would be a scene, a crowd would gather, Akuha herself would eventually get curious, and her plan would be torpedoed. And, even ignoring that scenario, Kahlua didn't bear Tsukune any ill will, and truly didn't want to needlessly attack him. But, if she had no choice…she would have no choice. That was why she preferred to get Moka alone, but it was clear that wouldn't happen here. She shut her mouth immediately, not wanting to draw Akuha's suspicion. She would have to find another opportunity later.

"What is it, Kahlua?" Tsukune asked.

"N-nothing, never mind," she said, averting her gaze from Akuha's raised brow. "Alright then, we'll be back in ten minutes, Akuha." Gesturing towards the other two, she made her way out of the square, Moka and Tsukune in tow.

Strolling down the crowded sidewalk, Tsukune took in the scenery. There were many well-crafted, tree-like sculptures lining the path on both sides… Wait. Were those…? It couldn't be! The trio blanched as they realized what exactly the sculptures were. Imposing silver phalluses towered over them where trees would be on a normal city sidewalk. What was worse, endless streams of some white fluid—_God, I hope it's milk, _prayed Tsukune—flowed from their tips and cascaded down their lengths, pooling in the soil at the obelisks' bases before running off in narrow grooves carved down the block. _I guess subtlety isn't the succubi's strong suit, _he thought in his cheeks heat, he struggled to bring his focus somewhere else. Anywhere else. Thankfully, he soon managed to take notice of several small restaurants in the area as they passed. His stomach growled, but he wasn't going to stop and oblige it now. For all he knew, they didn't serve food edible to humans here. He glanced at the silver-haired girl next to him, regretful she likely didn't have a decent grasp of the place either. "Moka, you've never been here before, right?"

She shook her head. "No. I—well, Omote and me—we went from place to place after mother left, but we never came here. There was never any need, really. Although, with Kokoa chasing us all over creation, I'm surprised we never made a stop here," she joked, though Tsukune read the hint of melancholy on her face at the mention of her mother.

"Heh, yeah, she always did want to fight with you," he joked back. He smiled, and reached out and took Moka's hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. A bright blush crossed the girl's face and she turned her eyes to the ground, forehead creased in embarrassment. The urge to pull her hand away briefly passed through her mind, but she decided to ignore it.

"You're lucky I like you," she mumbled, a soft grin pulling at her lips. "If anyone else did that, I'd have to show them their place."

He chuckled, knowing he was the only person lucky enough to be allowed to hold Moka's hand like this. On they walked, until they reached the end of the block. They paused there, to consider which direction they'd next turn. "Now I'm not certain," said Kahlua, "but I think I remember a nice little store somewhere near here that sells the most delicious desserts! I've been really looking forward to getting some. It's been ages since I've had their chocolate! Let's check the next street, okay? Just for a minute, so we don't upset Akuha."

"Fine, but don't get carried away, Kahlua," Moka warned. "I haven't forgotten how you used to inhale me and Kokoa's desserts back home. Focus on one thing you want to buy, and don't get distracted."

"I know, I know, don't worry!" Kahlua smiled. Bending down, the woman reached into a small pouch clipped around her ankle and fiddled around for a moment, before letting out a disappointed cry. "Aww~! I forgot to bring money. Darn, I am completely broke." Tsukune stared at the crestfallen girl as her shoulders slumped dejectedly. "Oh well," she sighed, "I guess we should just head back. Sorry I dragged you out here, guys." He noticed an unusual amount of sadness in Kahlua's voice for something so simple as loss of desserts. The girl looked heartbroken. He turned a confused gaze to Moka, but she was at a loss, as well. As Kahlua brushed past them, he thought she even seemed like she was going to cry. Her pitiful countenance suddenly plucked at his pity chord, and he found himself reaching into his own pants pocket to pull out his wallet – which, thankfully, Akuha hadn't confiscated.

"Wait, Kahlua," he said. Why he was helping an enemy with something this silly, he wasn't sure, but he didn't like seeing the crushed look on the young woman's face. "I have some on me," he told her, ruffling through some bills. He didn't know if his currency was even accepted here, but it would have to do.

It was like Christmas come early, the way Kahlua's face lit up. "Really? How wonderful! Moka's got herself a great guy. Thank you, Tsukune!" Taking him by surprise, she dove and tackled Tsukune right to the ground, falling on him with a loud thud.

"K-Kahlua!" Moka gasped.

Tsukune let out a soft grunt of pain as he hit the rough pavement. Out of his outstretched arm flew his wallet; he watched helplessly as it slid into the store next to them, under a small space in the planks of wood boarding up the entrance, which signaled the place was out of use. "Ah! Hold on, guys, my wallet's gone," he exclaimed, trying to ignore Kahlua's pleasant perfume and delicate skin.

From her position, the older girl blushed. "S-sorry about that. I couldn't control myself." Awkwardly she rose, smoothing out her dress.

Moka sighed. "Really, Kahlua, you've got to stop tackling people. See where it's got us? Now Tsukune's lost the money he was going to use on you."

"I really am sorry…" Kahlua hung her head in shame. "But, we can just go get it back. It only went into that building there, right?"

Tsukune shook his head. "No, it's barricaded. See? We're not supposed to go in." He shrugged, his eyes scanning the passing crowd, intentionally avoiding making any eye contact. Above, the leaves climbing the sides of the buildings dripped several drops of dew right onto his forehead. Blinking, he wiped the water away and continued, "Although, I can't lose my wallet. My parents would freak out if I did."

Nodding, Moka turned to a passerby. "Ah, excuse me." The succubus looked at her curiously, fumbling with the rather large purse on her shoulder. "What is this place?" She motioned to the closed off building.

"Oh, that's an old souvenir shop," the woman replied, her eyes scanning the structure as if to make sure. "It's been closed for several months, since they opened up a new one a few blocks over." She shrugged. "I think it was pointless, but hey, it's not my store. I heard the new location is closer to the tea house, and since that place is so popular it would be easier to bring in customers, or something. Actually, there's been a new rumor circulating that this place is haunted now. Don't ask me why. I think it's crap, personally."

"Do you know if there's anyway we can get inside? Something of ours just slid under the barricade and we need to get it back."

Giving her a sympathetic look, the woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, that I don't know anything about. Maybe someone else will? Well, good luck." Moka thanked her, and she departed with a smile and a wave. Once she had gone, Tsukune hung his head.

"Great, we don't have time to go all over looking for someone to help us. What are we supposed to do?"

There was silence for a moment, but then, clapping her hands together, Kahlua let an oddly distant look cross her features. "Leave it to me. I'll get it."

Moka frowned. "Hey, Kahlua, what're you—Ah! No, don't!" But her protests came too late, for Kahlua had already sent her fist smashing through the planks of the barricade, tearing down the obstruction before them. As the wood clattered to the ground, Tsukune fidgeted nervously at the passersby who stopped to stare at the scene, casting dark glances at the trio and muttering disapproval under their breaths (opinions like, "I swear, some people were just not raised right," and "These outsiders are rude as can be," passed their lips). His discomfort was interrupted, however, as Kahlua grabbed his and Moka's arms and yanked them after her.

"Come on," she said. Behind the destroyed blockage were an old pair of doors that didn't quite reach the ground either; plenty of room for a small object to slide under. Kahlua opened the door and pulled them into the dark entryway. Inside appeared to be a huge abandoned shop, full of aisles of dusty, empty shelves – though Tsukune couldn't see through the darkness clearly, and relied on Moka for the description. "It should be just in here, right?" Kahlua asked. He responded affirmatively, quickly sinking to his hands and knees and fumbling around on the floor. The wallet had only slid from his grip, it couldn't have gone that far. But, as seconds passed, then minutes, try as he might, he just couldn't find it.

A sudden noise caught their attention; a soft shuffle that came from further within. And then it was gone.

"That's weird," said Tsukune, a moment later, dismissing it as a rat or something. "I can't find it at all." To his side, the vampire sisters were also on the floor, searching.

"Me neither," Moka chimed in. "And I can actually see. You guys are sure it went in here? Maybe it slipped out into the street instead."

Tsukune was sure by now he had covered every square inch of the tiled floor with his hands. _Why can't I find it? _His frustration started to grow. "No, this is ridiculous. There's no way it's not here."

They expanded the circumference of their search slightly, though they still were unable to find any trace of the wallet. "I don't know, Tsukune," Moka said plainly. "I think it must be outside and you just—what is that noise?"

Tsukune looked up. He had heard it again, too. The same scraping sound they'd heard a minute ago. A bit louder this time, as well. But despite his curiosity, finding the lost item was still Tsukune's top priority, even if his eyes couldn't make out much in the darkness. His blind groping was likewise proving fruitless – well, only when it came to the wallet. When it came to accidentally grabbing what he soon realized was Moka's ample breast, there his search was quite successful. He quickly retracted his hand with an awkwardly sputtered apology.

"I don't think now is the right time for that, Tsukune," she replied lowly, her embarrassment palpable in her voice. She was thankful he didn't have a vampire's eyes, or he would have seen the slight smile that came to her lips, against her wishes. "A-anyway, forget about that," she went on, "I'm sorry, but I don't see your wallet anywhere. What about you, Kahlua?"

She paused, but no answer came. "Kahlua?" she repeated. "Did you find anything?"

Still no answer.

"Hey, Kahlua!" Moka called out. "Where are you?"

Tsukune frowned, biting his lip. "Um, Moka, I can't see too well, but I don't think she's with us anymore."

The girl paused, casting a glance around the store. Indeed, she couldn't find a trace of her sister. "What the—What's going on? She was here a minute ago."

Tsukune swallowed nervously. This was definitely getting creepy. First they enter a dark, abandoned, sealed up shop, and then Kahlua vanishes into thin air? _Where could she be? Could something have taken her? _But, that was impossible. There was no way someone as strong as her could be abducted, Tsukune told himself. And who would want to take her, anyway? Silence hung in the air for a moment, then a thought came to him. "Moka, that noise from before. Any idea what it was?"

"No," she shook her head. "You think those sounds have something to do with this, I take it."

"They sounded like they came from the back of the room. Kind of like, a door closing, maybe. Something shifting or scraping along."

Moka's eyes widened. "Something…like Kahlua, perhaps?" They paused, and then Moka took Tsukune by the wrist and helped him to his feet. "Come on, let's check it out. Maybe she went looking back there."

"But why? My wallet would have to be here in the front."

"I'm not sure, but we've done all we can in this spot. We might as well see where she went."

He agreed. Hastily they made their way past the shelves, finding their way through the sizeable emporium, until they reached the back. As they expected, a small set of wooden stairs led down to another old pair of double doors. "Kahlua?" Moka called out, but silence greeted them once again. "Alright, come on Tsukune," she said, leading him down the steps and pushing open the doors. Truth be told, Tsukune was hesitant about charging into this unknown place, even if he was confident the two of them could handle any danger they might confront. Nevertheless, on they walked. Beyond the doors was a small storage room, lit well enough for Tsukune to see this time. As soon as they entered, Moka squeezed his hand and spoke lowly, "Umm, Tsukune? Look."

Confused, Tsukune blinked. Once his eyes had adjusted, his muscles suddenly tensed. They weren't the room's only occupants. Gathered in a small circle amid the various crates strewn about, a winged trio of what they recognized as incubi slowly turned to stare at the intruders. Their beady eyes flashed in the dim light as they roamed up and down the pair, particularly lingering on Moka and her school uniform. She scowled, clenching her hand into a fist. "H-hello there," Tsukune said nervously. "Have you seen a tall, dark-skinned girl come through here? It'd be great if you could help us."

The bulky creatures didn't respond, but after glancing at each other, started to lumber over to the newcomers. _Crap, _Tsukune thought, _they're coming. What do they want? Are we going to have to fight our way out of here? _As they neared, he and Moka noticed, much to their chagrin, that like the guards at the city's entrance, these incubi were fully exposed. And growing more erect as they approached, their eyes glued to Tsukune's silver-maned goddess.

"Hehhh hehhh," one of them finally spoke, a deep chuckle rumbling in his gut. "Yesss, wee heeelllp youuu. Youuuu follloowww ussss, we showww you whaatttt youu loookinggg forrrr… Youuu…andd the girrllll, hehhh…"

_Not good. _Tsukune glanced over at Moka. Her jaw was clenched, her brow lowered in uncertainty. Tsukune was no fool. He could see the way these lustful things were focused on the proud vampiress. Their eyes and their…other parts. They probably only wanted them to follow so they could get them alone, isolated, and do who knows what to Moka. _We should get out of here. _

"Ah, it's okay," Moka said, also thinking it best to avoid messy confrontations. "Never mind, we're just going to leave. Sorry for troubling you." She leaned over and whispered, "C'mon, Tsukune, follow me."

They turned, but found out an incubus had slipped behind them with surprising stealth and was now blocking the door. A steel grip on her wrist from another of the ogres got Moka's attention. Leveling her gaze with the creature, she glared daggers at him. "Heh, such arrogance, laying your hands on me. If you want to keep that arm of yours, I suggest you let go." Her voice was cold and firm. The incubus leered up at her, but obediently released his tight hold.

"Youuuu don't goooo. Commme with usss. Otheerrr girllll furrtherr aheeadd."

This piqued Tsukune's interest. "Really? Kahlua came down here? Where is she?"

The incubus uttered a single world of reply. "Folllowww." Then the pack turned around and lazily began moving to the side exit of the room. Tsukune and Moka decided they had little choice but to follow into a narrow, dank corridor. As they walked in silence, their thoughts were as one. Where were they being led? It was obviously a trap by these horny beasts, wasn't it? Surely they were taking them to some secluded spot. But if Kahlua really was there, they had to at least follow these burly guides. And if she was up ahead, why was she? They had just been looking for a wallet before she disappeared… It couldn't be that she was captured by these incubi? Not someone as powerful as her… This whole thing was too strange. As were their guides. Or maybe their captors. For beings who were supposed to be closely related to succubi, they didn't resemble their more bewitching counterparts by any measure – except endowment. They didn't even seem to reach basic human intellect. Their movements were slow and clumsy, they appeared unable to form complete sentences. All in all, they were a rather underwhelming species; if not for their obvious brute power, Tsukune would have felt no fear at the moment.

A minute later, they reached the end; the hall opened up into a spacious underground chamber, resembling a foyer of sorts. Twin sets of stairs led up to a second level and yet another door, ornately carved. Above, a lustrous chandelier hung low, its numerous arms bestrewn with glowing candles that only weakly pierced the thick mist choking the ceiling. To the pair's side, a red plush couch and armchair lay around a small table. Seated on that chair, to their surprise, was Kahlua.

"Ah, there you are!" the blonde girl exclaimed, pressing her hands together joyfully. "I'm so glad you finally came, you two."

Moka and Tsukune stole a glance at each other. "What are you talking about, Kahlua?" asked Moka. "What're you doing here?"

"We tooolllddd youuuu sheee was heeerre," interrupted a gravelly-voiced incubus.

"What is this place?" Moka demanded. "You just disappeared on us back there."

Tsukune was alarmed by how the monsters were now looking at Moka, but was unable to make a move with these living boulders blocking the exit.

Kahlua merely smiled at her sister. "I know. I'm sorry for worrying you, Moka."

Before the girl could reply, one of the incubi finally decided to get a feel of the lovely white-haired vampire. His member fully engorged, he staggered toward her clumsily but with obvious intent. Tsukune made to intercept him. Moka frowned and clenched her first, preparing to deliver a solid foot to the beast's gut.

But she never got the chance. The incubus' clawed, beefy hand closed over her arm, his tongue dangling hungrily from his jaws; and then, he was on the floor, sprawled face-down as if brutally rammed by a truck.

Tsukune recoiled sharply. How had that happened? He had barely even blinked. It hadn't been two seconds. But that was all the time Kahlua had needed to burst up from her chair, shoot across the room and practically spike the incubus to the ground with inhuman strength. Standing next to a startled Moka, towering over the unconscious creature, she looked down on it with visible anger.

"How dare you," she growled, resting her foot on the gray crown. "You are not allowed to lay a hand on her."

Moka eyed her sister cautiously. "Kahlua, what's going on? I could've handled that guy myself, you know. It's not the first time someone's been fool enough to try that."

Calming down with a deep breath, Kahlua smiled gently at her sister and gripped her shoulders lightly. "Maybe you could have. But these guys are tough, Moka, and sturdy. It took all my strength just to knock this one out. You have to hit the back of their heads; a kick to the gut would be a mosquito bite to them."

There was a pause for a moment before Moka spoke again. "Well, whatever. You still haven't told me what you're doing here." She frowned, thinking. "Actually, forget about it. I don't really care what this place is, let's just get out of here. Akuha-neesan is probably wondering why we're so late." Taking Tsukune's hand, she began to make for the door, the incubus guarding it having retreated in terror.

"Oh, dear. Leaving, are you? I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Tsukune stopped in his tracks as the sudden, unknown voice echoed throughout the foyer. Casting his eyes about, he could see no one except the three of them, and of course the other incubi. But they had retreated from Kahlua, and were cowering under one of the staircases. Furthermore, that voice had definitely not belonged to any of them. It was a woman's voice, Tsukune noted, yet he saw no one who could have uttered it.

Moka was just as confused. "Who said that?" she called out loudly, releasing Tsukune. "Who's there? Come on out, show yourself."

Almost on cue, the doors on the balcony above groaned open. Blocked by the mist, it was difficult for Tsukune to see what, or who, was there, until at last a woman emerged at the handrail. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he could tell right away that she was a succubus. Perhaps it was the wild green tresses that streamed down her back, or the impossibly perfect curves of her body, her bust straining against a flimsy top. Or maybe just the way her eyes danced over them from her perch, as if she were waiting to devour them whole. Not to mention, of course, that they were in the succubi's home city. That was a pretty big clue, as well. "No mistake about it," he said. "She's got to be a succubus."

"Bingo," the woman crooned above him. Her long, polished nails fondly tapped the rail. "Although it's not like it took a lot of brainpower to figure that out." Wings suddenly unfurled and spread from the succubus' back; with a flap, she was in the air, and quickly floated over the balustrade to hover above the ground floor, looking over the three. "But come now, what is this about you wanting to leave? We haven't even gotten acquainted yet."

"Why should we care who you are?' Moka asked sternly. "We simply lost something and went into the store above to try and find it. Then my sister disappears, we get needlessly sidetracked, and we still haven't found what we were looking for. We're not going to waste any more time here with you, whoever you are."

"What you were looking for?" the woman echoed. Pausing, she reached into the pocket of her parted silken robe and pulled out a small item.

Tsukune gasped. "Ah! That's—

"Do you mean this?" asked the succubus, holding his wallet in her grasp. "My incubi found it upstairs and brought it to me, and I decided to keep it." She looked at the leather. "Really, dears, you shouldn't throw things into other people's homes if you don't want to lose them."

"We didn't throw it," Moka replied. "But it's really none of your business. Give it back, and we'll be on our way."

The woman said nothing, but turned to Tsukune, an annoyed look on her face. "Tell me, boy. Is your friend here always so rude?"

Standing his own ground, Tsukune met her gaze. "Please do as she says, ma'am. That's my wallet you've got there, and I would like it back."

"Please, call me Amane," she replied casually. "Well, at least you have manners. I suppose I'll reward you by making your death quick and mostly painless."

At this, Tsukune gave a start, a lump forming in his throat. "E-excuse me?"

The woman called Amane turned silently in midair to examine the incubi still huddled in the corner. They looked a bit less terrified now that the succubus had arrived. The one who had tried to grope Moka still lay where he had fallen. "My my," Amane tisked, "it seems you've frightened my servants. And after they were so obedient in leading you here." Gliding over to them, she gently stroked their thick heads, comforting them as she would a pet.

"Servants?" Moka blurted out. "What do you mean, servants? What is going on here, anyway? What the hell do you mean about killing Tsukune?"

"These incubi are my servants," she said shortly. "I take it you're new to Yomotsu. Did you find it surprising that there were incubi at the front gate, and yet you probably saw few to none on the streets?"

Tsukune brushed aside his anxiety for a second and recalled they hadn't really seen any of the creatures in the city.

Amane continued. "It's no surprise. Let me tell explain something to you." She paused. "This is the city of succubi, as you surely know. It has been our species' home for as long as we can remember. And as long as we can remember, it's been us, the female succubi, who have achieved the higher form of sentience. Reading, writing, spoken language, arts, politics – all has been within our grasp throughout our history. Not just the more _pleasurable _pastimes." At that, she rapped her knuckles against one of her servant's skulls, but he gave no indication he had even felt it. "These guys, however, are different. As incubi, they are technically part of our species. But for whatever reasons, their brains developed to be quite…inferior, in just about every way. Sure, they have their muscles, but they're not good for much else."

"What do you mean?" Tsukune asked.

"They don't have the cognitive ability to participate in running this city," she shrugged. "Us succubi are thus left with the tasks of government, business, that sort of thing. Incubi like these guys here are mostly given menial tasks and manual labor. Wouldn't want to strain their brains!" She laughed.

Tsukune found himself growing angry. She shouldn't be belittling other living creatures, and that they were forced into and subjugated under such a rigid and unfair hierarchy seemed distasteful. Those were his feelings, and he let her know as much. Amane let out a laugh that sounded close to a cackle.

"Oh, don't be mad!" she said teasingly. "I didn't tell you their most important function. You see, even though many succubi nowadays are fine with fathering a child with a male from another race, there are still plenty here who are instinctively drawn to our male counterparts, as we have been for most of our history. Incubi are widely used in Yomotsu for breeding purposes, you see, for women who desire them. They help replenish our population in large numbers. Only in recent times, with more exposure to other species, has that not been the case for all of us. But for the many who still find it to their fancy, they find the incubi provide a valuable service."

"You just use them like animals, you mean," Tsukune objected. "For your own selfish purposes, is that right? I may not know this place that well, but you can't just use people as your sex slaves."

"People? Don't make me laugh." Amane's wings carried her over to the trio. "I hate to break it to you, but they really are barely above animals. Look for yourself." She gestured over at the three incubi, slowly emerging from their hiding place, glancing around the room cautiously to sense whether the danger had passed. "Anyway, it's simply the way of things," she continued. "Always has been. Succubi rule, incubi serve as needed." She paused, examining her manicured talons. "Believe it or not, Yomotsu is a fairly traditional society. Many succubi prefer to keep incubi as their mates, just as many—maybe even more—adhere to the tradition of giving birth to their young in the city itself, or having an insipid little celebration when they reach full womanhood. That's the way things are. I don't make the rules."

As she spoke, Amane moved uncomfortably close to Tsukune. He held still and forced himself to avert his eyes as her generous cleavage hovered in front of his face. The succubus said nothing, but sniffed the air around the human boy curiously. "Besides, what are you getting upset about?" she asked, almost playfully. "You have the stench of sex on you as well, boy. Multiple partners, it smells like." Tsukune and Moka blushed heavily, too flustered to speak. Amane laughed heartily, clearly amused. "I take it you know very well what it's like to be someone's sex slave, yes? Hah! Enjoyable, is it not? You of all people shouldn't feel sorry for those who share that fate."

Tsukune wanted to protest, but Moka interrupted them. "You still haven't told us where this place is, or why you talked about killing Tsukune."

Turning to Moka, Amane shamelessly licked her lips at the sight of the young vampiress. "Now, now, my rude little pet. There's no need for you to think about that, since the boy will soon be dead and you will be under new employ."

"New employ?" Moka echoed, eyes narrowed.

A wild grin spread across the succubus' lips, her pearly whites gleaming. "Oh, didn't I mention? We have quite the thriving…_entertainment_ industry here." She put special emphasis on that word. "Gorgeous succubi are always in high demand from our male visitors, and sometimes our female ones too. Sadly, fewer and fewer succubi are entering that trade these days. Better options, and all." She snorted derisively. "So to compensate for the decrease in product on the legitimate side of the industry, there are those of us who have discovered…other methods of keeping up supply."

Tsukune wasn't sure he followed, but Moka's eyes hardened in disgust. "You don't mean—

"Speaking of sex slaves," the woman finished for her, chuckling. "Although, we tend to call them assets. Sounds cleaner, doesn't it? More professional. Sterile."

Feeling a surge of rage boiling in his gut, Tsukune stepped forward, glaring angrily at Amane. "If you think for a second I'll allow you to sell Moka off as a prostitute, you've got another thing coming!"

"Tsukune," Moka said, reaching out and grabbing him by the hand. "Forget about her. We're out of here. Let's go Tsukune, Kahlua." She turned to the succubus, fire in her gaze. "Try to follow us, and I'll kill you." Turning back to the doorway with Tsukune in her grip, Moka was about to storm out of the underground chamber, when a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. Casting a startled glance to her side, her eyes were met with Kahlua's vacant stare. Behind them, Amane clicked her tongue in disapproval. Stretching her wings, she lifted herself back up to the second level.

"As I said before, I'm afraid you're not going anywhere."

"K-Kahlua?" Moka said, feeling her sister's clutch tighten whenever she struggled. "What're you doing? Let me go!"

Tsukune stared deep into the elder Shuzen's eyes. The usually bright and cheerful orbs seemed different to him. They looked blank and glazed over as she kept her sister from escaping. Then it dawned on him. "Moka!" he shouted. "She's Charmed!"

Moka looked at her sister incredulously. "What? But she hasn't been fighting!"

"No, not that kind of charmed. Succubus charmed!" It made sense. Tsukune recognized that hypnotized look in Kahlua's eyes. He turned back to Amane in anger. "You! You did this to her, didn't you?"

Leering at him down the bridge of her nose, the woman smirked. "Clever boy. You know something about our abilities."

"Wait a minute," Tsukune paused. Now that he thought about it, Amane looked somewhat familiar. It had occurred to him when he first saw her, but now, looking her over, he was even more positive. "I've seen you somewhere before." His brain began to race, frantically filing through all the memories of recent events it could access. Landing the airship, entering Yomotsu, seeing the city for the first time, the buildings, the streets, the succubi moving about, their lusty looks, their alluring eyes, their—_alluring eyes...! _"That's it!" he exclaimed. "You were one of the succubi we saw when we entered. The one who almost Charmed me!"

"Well, you're half right," said Amane. "That was indeed me, but it wasn't you I was trying to charm."

"So you were trying to get Kahlua?" Moka interrogated.

"Wrong again," the woman replied, shaking her head.

Tsukune's eyes opened wide in horror. "Then, Moka was—

"You got it. She was the one I wanted." Amane licked her lips again, hungrily. "She is the image of perfect beauty. The second I saw you all, I knew I'd hit a great stroke of luck. I thought to myself that I had to possess her, to _taste_ her. And after I was done, I'd make a nice profit from selling her." She sighed. "Sadly, you were more resistant to my charms than I thought, girl. I had to make a quick decision then to charm your sister here instead." She motioned to Kahlua. "Her mind was _much _more susceptible to me, as I quickly learned. I hoped she would then be drawn to me, and bring her white-haired companion with her. And here you are! Luck really is on my side."

"How could you be sure she would lead us to you?" Moka asked.

"It's the way the Charm works, pet. A fully developed one, at least. Only little girls can do no more than blatant hypnosis." Tsukune flinched at the perceived slight against Kurumu, not to mention her referring to Moka as pet. "If that was all I'd done, you would've noticed something odd about your sister and instantly been suspicious. But, surely she was behaving normally? That's because I simply affected her subconscious, Charming her so she would unknowingly be drawn to my location, like a magnet. Only when I saw her in the store did I fully activate the trance, out of your sight. It wasn't guaranteed to work perfectly, of course, but it seems I was fortunate. It brought you to me, after all." Her dishonestly sweet smile made Tsukune's stomach churn.

"You're sick," he growled. "You're horrible. You're some sort of slave trafficker then? How can you do that to innocent girls? Do you think we'll let you get away with this?"

Sensing his growing distress, Moka spoke to him calmly. "Tsukune," she said, "I understand how you feel. I don't like what she's doing either, but we have other things to worry about." She nodded her head to the side, at her big sister who still held her shoulder in an ironclad grip. "We have to take Kahlua and get out of here, now."

Hearing that, Amane laughed gleefully. "Once again I have to explain it to you! Don't you get it? No one. Is going. Anywhere." She paused, then lowered her voice to a serious, deadly tone. "Kahlua, obey your mistress. Restrain your sister now. But do leave her alive."

Moka immediately tensed her body, preparing to drop her foot back into a defensive position and break out of Kahlua's hold. Before she could make a move, however, the white-gloved hand on her shoulder slid at bullet speed to a pressure point on her neck, hitting it with force. Moka dropped noiselessly, but Kahlua caught her before she hit the floor.

"Moka!" Tsukune cried out. He reached to grab her, but he too had no time to react before the blonde vampire's foot slammed into his gut, lifting him off his feet and sending him flying back to the wall. He slammed into it with a heavy thud, knocking the wind from his lungs, and crumpled to the ground. Dizzy as he was, he marveled that he was still conscious, and moreover, that his spine hadn't completely shattered upon impact. Indeed, he could still feel his legs. Through his hazy vision, he could see Kahlua laying Moka down carefully, then turning and making purposeful strides towards him; his shaken hearing allowed him to tell that Amane was commanding the dark-skinned girl to do…something. Tsukune couldn't make out the exact words in his state. Very shortly, Kahlua's blurry visage entered his field of vision, her head sinking down to his level. As his senses slowly unscrambled, he could see she was still under the spell of the succubus. Staring blankly at him, she suddenly raised his level of alarm to maximum as she tugged firmly at his zipper, then with unmatched speed yanked his pants down over his waist. His underwear quickly followed, and as he was fully exposed, Tsukune finally found his tongue. "K-Kahlua? Hey, stop that! What's gotten into you?"

It was then that his ears cleared up enough for him to hear what Amane was shouting. "Can you hear me yet, boy?" He turned in her direction. "I've asked your friend here to entertain you for a moment before you die. I figured I could use some amusement. And my new slave can consider it punishment for her disrespect, having her boyfriend violated by her own sister."

Tsukune felt his face grow heated. "What? No, I don't want—_ah!" _His protest was cut short when the gentle fabric of Kahlua's glove rubbed up against his quickly stiffening member. He cursed himself for becoming aroused so easily. Judging him to be hard enough, the young woman dropped swiftly and enveloped his entire shaft in her wet, welcoming mouth. The boy's eyes practically burst from his skull. This couldn't be happening. Not again. With another of his beloved Moka's sisters! He wouldn't deny that Kahlua was an elegant, exotic beauty, but this couldn't happen! An involuntary gasp escaped him as her silken lips hummed against his flesh, her tongue dancing wildly to lick every spot it could reach. Tsukune had a feeling Kahlua wasn't exactly an expert in this area, but what she lacked in skill she more than made up for in passion. "Please, Kahlua, d-don't _nngh!" _But his objections fell on deaf ears, and her head bobbed up and down with vigour. Above them, Amane grinned.

"Don't bother, she won't listen to you. I have her completely under my control."

Her only response from Tsukune was a moan, his cock being drenched in Kahlua's saliva. Her suckling grew louder, sloppier, her moist, slurping lips providing a tantalizing amount of suction for the beleaguered boy. He glanced over at Moka; he was grateful she still seemed to be unconscious – at least she wouldn't have to see this. He was desperately worried about her, of course, but the better part of his mind was being overwhelmed by the assault on his senses. This was even more intense than Akuha's blowjob, he thought, and already he could feel the pressure building in his lap. He quickly realized it might not be best to think about his session with Akuha and Moka; he was already losing control from Kahlua alone. Drool leaked from the side of the vampire's busy mouth, staining a few locks of her golden hair that had draped across Tsukune's thigh. A moment later, her hand drifted up to cradle the boy's sack, roughly fondling the heavy orbs within, stirring up his juices even more. He tried to protest again, but all he could manage was a faint "S-stop…"

Instead, Kahlua pulled her lips back until they only circled the head of his meat. Tsukune's nerves were aflame; he could feel everything. Her soft tongue darting out against his slit, lapping urgently at the precum that had gathered there, gently probing ever so slightly inside. A sharp gasp was her reward, his muscles tightening under her onslaught. Her distant eyes met his, keeping their gaze as she gently wrapped a gloved hand around the base of his cock. Tugging it firmly, she stroked him and resumed her sucking, going down on him with such speed Tsukune was surprised she didn't injure her neck. Hand and mouth working in tandem, she brought her younger partner higher and higher, her luscious cinnamon skin an erotic contrast against the lighter flesh of his lap. Panting heavily, his vision was rapidly hazing over in lust. Tongue worshipping his shaft, her spit leaking out on his crotch as she finally forced him down her throat, she engulfed his full length in her mouth, a bright flush creeping into her cheeks. Tsukune was barely aware of anything else at this point. He could feel her jaws working as she devoured him, gripping him with just the right amount of pressure, her hand a blur on his shaft. He was being brought to the summit, looking down from the cliff's edge at the steep drop he would take with just a few more steps.

Kahlua must have sensed this, as well, for she immediately decided it was time to finish the boy off. Not stopping her motions even for a second, she brought her other hand forward and tenderly, experimentally probed his anus. A second later, half her index finger had slid inside the wide-eyed Tsukune. And that was it for him. Never having felt something enter him like that, the combined stimulus of Kahlua's ferocious ministrations pushed him off the deep end. His abs clenched tightly as he erupted straight down the woman's delicate throat, tossing his head back in unwanted rapture, his sphincter clenching around her digit. His assailant swallowed every thick stream that coated the back of her mouth, gulping it down hungrily like a woman possessed.

As his spasms finally started to subside, Tsukune's muscles began to relax, his breathing slowing down to normal speed. Finished with her meal, Kahlua detached her panting, glossy lips from his member with an audible pop. Their eyes met each others; for a moment, hers remained as dull as they had been, indicating her unconscious enslavement by the succubus, who herself looked down on the pair with visible satisfaction. "Well, that was pretty hot," she chuckled. "I might have even considered taking that woman too, with the way she performed, but really, just look at this one!" She gestured toward Moka, who was just starting to wake, making soft groggy noises as she came to. "She's perfect! Flawless skin, luscious hair, those seductive eyes! She's the only one I need today." The woman's face lit up with elation as she rambled on. "I've been in this industry a long time, so I can tell you. This girl here, she's going to bring us a _lot _of business. I'm certain of it." She paused, surveying her captives with great interest, lying there in the languid aftermath of their forced affair. Then with a wave of her hand, she sighed dismissively. "Anyway, may as well release this one, then…"

And with that, the blank listlessness in Kahlua's eyes evaporated in an instant. The newly lucid vampiress blinked in confusion, her gaze fixing on the boy above her, his position, his lack of pants, the residue of some sticky substance clinging to the back of her throat. Realization began to dawn on her, and an instant horror flooded her features. "O-oh my god," she stammered. "Tsukune? What's – you – I didn't…no, I couldn't..." Her head spun. From the looks of it, Tsukune thought she might throw up. The girl managed to hold her stomach down, however, instead sputtering out multiple apologies, eyes welling up with soft tears. Tsukune didn't know what to say as she bowed her head to the ground in contrition, his own feelings in turmoil, but a moment later he heard something that made his stomach sink like a stone.

"Tsukune, what's going on?"

The boy turned slowly to see that Moka had regained full consciousness, and now had her eyes narrowed in anger at her sister and Tsukune. Her voice was chilled. "Kahlua, why are Tsukune's pants down? What the hell did you do to him? Answer me!" But she quickly found Kahlua could do nothing except start to sob, the flood waters bursting forth and streaming down her face.

"I-I-I'm sorry M-Moka, I-I didn't m-mean t-to," she hiccupped, "D-don't – don't know w-what came over m-m-me!" She could barely get her words out. "I-I was – one m-moment, and then – and then—!" She trailed off.

Tsukune looked on at the pitiful scene, his guilt only outweighed by his sympathy for Moka, who once again had to endure a sister assaulting him, and even for Kahlua, who had just been used as a tool in some horrid scheme to hurt her beloved sister. Despite her odd affiliation with Fairy Tale, Tsukune strained to find a mean bone in her body. The way she was taking this so hard, for Moka's sake, spoke volumes in that regard. Before any of them could speak again, Amane decided she'd had enough of the hysterics, and descended over the balustrade to their level. "Ahh, this is getting too sappy for me," she said airily. She turned to face Moka, the girl's face an unreadable mask aside from the cold flame in her crimson eyes. "Don't blame your sister completely," she said. "She was Charmed to get your little boyfriend off. Still, consider it your punishment for being so insolent. Think about that when we're through here, and you're in training, learning how to serve your…customers."

Hearing this, Moka turned heel sharply, facing down her enemy. Her fingers dug into her palms; she was sure she could feel skin breaking, but she didn't care. "You…you _bitch_." Tsukune gulped. Neither Moka really cursed, so when she did, it was usually a cause for alarm. "You did this? I swear, I am going to rip that throat out of your little slut body, succubus." She began taking slow, purposeful steps toward the hovering woman, murder on her mind.

Amane sighed. "Enough. What's done is done, and it's time we were on our way, my dear. To your new future." Turning to Tsukune and the prostrate Kahlua, she snapped her fingers. Out of the shadows emerged two incubi, who immediately seized the pair in a vice grip – big, stony arms crushing their windpipes. Kahlua let out a soft gasp, while Tsukune simply struggled to breathe. "And you two, well, I suppose it's time for you to die. Luckily for me, Kahlua doesn't appear to have the will to resist. She looks like she could pose a problem, otherwise."

Watching them, Moka snapped at last. Breaking into a dash, she hurtled towards the hateful succubus. "Let them go!" she screamed, jumping off her back leg, bringing the other around and aiming her kick straight at Amane's skull. The succubus must have been used to dodging blows, however, as she deftly ducked under the silver-haired bullet, letting Moka's foot catch empty air as she sailed overhead. The girl slammed against the opposite wall, and with a roar, rebounded off the surface for another pass at her target. Amane grinned, priming for another evasion.

What happened next, no one present could later recall with perfect clarity.

All of a sudden, a deafening blast resounded throughout the chamber, and a split second later the heavy stones of the ruined ceiling crashed down around the group with thunderous noise. Artificial daylight from outside poured in, and Tsukune's eyes were blinded by the dazzling shine. Squinting, he could no longer see anyone or anything ahead of him. Amane, Kahlua, Moka, all disappeared into the flood of light and violent din echoing around him. It was only afterwards he would remember what he saw next.

The black shadow. Alone it pierced through the glare, silent darkness descending from above. In the blink of an eye, it swooped down like a pitch-colored bat to the center of the room. A bloodcurdling shriek rang out, stabbing at Tsukune's eardrums. And then – something wet touched down in his bare lap. Something warm. Something…pulsing. Shortly recovering his vision, with terrified shock his eyes peered upon what it was.

A heart.

Cradled between his thighs it lay, covered in fresh blood. A sharp chill ran down Tsukune's spine, his entire body breaking out in a cold sweat. His head began to swirl as nausea assaulted his brain, his own heart beating in eerie synchronization with the throbbing organ. "W-what…?" was all he could manage. Fighting the growing urge to pass out or vomit, he tremulously tore his eyes away, forcing them upward in pure dread. There stood Amane. Her mouth hung agape, her body shuddering with small death spasms as her eyes misted over darkly. But Tsukune ignored all that, only able to focus on the blood-soaked hand protruding from her chest. A moment later, it was withdrawn from its cavity, and as Akuha pulled away, Amane's corpse flopped onto the ground like a puppet cut from its strings.

Dead silence hung upon the open chamber. Realizing the succubus' heart was still in contact with his body, Tsukune bolted up violently, knocking the thumping life organ away. He looked around. Kahlua still sat distressed on the floor, though her tears had ceased. A fist-sized crater next to her indicated some vented frustration. She appeared only mildly surprised by this turn of events, at most. As for Moka, she had missed Amane again, and landed a few feet across from Tsukune. Like him, she met Akuha's eyes with confusion, and fear. And with good reason. The look on the assassin's crimson-coated face spoke of nothing but cold, merciless death, and as she saw the pair gawking at her, she fixed her eyes on them. "About time I found you." Her voice was stern.

"A-Akuha-neesan…what's going on?" Moka was dumbfounded.

Before the girl could respond, however, a voice from above caught their attention. "Heeeeeyyy! You all okay down there?" Tsukune and Moka looked up. At the edge of the newly formed hole, back up on the street, a redheaded succubus stood peering down, eyes wide with apprehension. Upon spotting Amane's body, she gasped softly. "Oh, my! So you caught her after all." She nervously flickered her gaze around her. "Uhh, maybe I should get the officers over here. Excuse me for a sec, I'll be right back, okay?" And off she scurried.

Moka turned back to her sister. "Who is that woman?"

Wiping her hand clean of blood, Akuha replied, "That is our guide. She showed up about ten minutes after you left. You were supposed to have been back by then, so we had no choice but to wait for you. But after a while, you still didn't show, so we decided to find you." She sighed, her face slowly softening from its stony façade. "We ran into some police along the way, who said they were looking for this Amane person," she gestured at the corpse. "Said she was in the ayashi trafficking business. They mentioned she worked out of some building on this block, and that they were getting close. Then, a little after we left we saw a bunch of people gathered around this one place that had been broken into. They told us two young ladies and a guy had gone in a while ago and hadn't come out." Her voice contained a hint of amusement. "By that point, I could sense you guys were somewhere near, and the feeling grew stronger until I reached this spot. So I broke through, saw Moka was in danger, and, well, you know the rest. Hehe." She exhaled, finished with her explanation. When the others didn't respond, she looked curiously at the trio. Only then did she truly notice Tsukune's pants bundled around his ankles, or Moka disheveled and angry, or Kahlua sniffling and wiping at her eyes. It didn't take a genius to know something was wrong. "So, now that you know my story, how about someone tell me what happened here?"

Kahlua finally spoke, her voice soft from the crying. "A-Akuha… the succubus, s-she Charmed me. She made—she m-made me…" She swallowed, forcing herself to confront the truth. "She made me do…illicit things to Tsukune."

Tsukune found it hard to read the expression on Akuha's face as she received the news. He wondered, too, given that she had been guilty of the same thing herself. Biting her lower lip, she reached up and rubbed her chin absently. "I see," she said, turning to Moka. "Well then, I suppose you're glad she's dead, right?" Her sister said nothing, but stared at the floor, silver bangs shielding her eyes. Visible concern crept onto Akuha's features at the girl's clear affliction. She moved forward to place a feather-light touch on her shoulder. "Hey, are you alright, Moka?" she questioned. But Moka was still quiet. Tsukune desperately wished he could help, but he had no idea what to do in this situation. Deciding to break the silence, he turned to Akuha, forcing a weak smile despite himself.

"T-thanks for helping us, Akuha," he said. "If you hadn't shown up when you did, I would be dead now. Although…" he paused, looking hesitantly down at Amane's mangled body and heart, feeling his stomach churn again, "I wish you didn't have to do…that."

Akuha's gaze darted over to the boy. To his surprise, it lingered there, and deep in her eyes, Tsukune noticed the faintest flicker of—something, some emotion, pass through them, soft as a whisper. _What was that? _And yet, as soon as it had appeared, it vanished, and her mouth turned to its normal frown.

"What about you?" she asked flatly. "You alright?" Tsukune blinked, a bit surprised at the question. He was positive it was the first time Akuha had ever asked about his well-being, even if her tone wasn't the most caring. Before he could say anything, however, the pitter patter of running footsteps grew louder from above, signaling the return of their guide. This time, the girl was accompanied by an exceedingly pretty uniformed female with violet tresses. A cop, no doubt. It was becoming obvious to Tsukune—who suddenly remembered his lack of pants and zipped up at light speed—that all the succubi in this city were marvelously stunning. And now that he got a better look at their guide, he could see the same applied to her. She possessed a certain cuteness, wearing a light pink top with tiny doves patterned in the fabric, a small skirt, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She didn't look much older than the members of the Newspaper Club, in fact. Together, the pair of succubi extended their leathery wings and descended to the shattered foyer.

"Whew, I'm back! And I brought help!" their guide said. The policewoman to her side drifted purposefully over to the pierced carcass of the slaver, crouching down by the dead woman and examining her with an intense inquisitiveness in her eyes. After a few moments of scanning Amane's death-white face, she nodded definitively.

"Yeah, she's the one we've been looking for." She sighed, running a hand through her wavy locks. "After all this time, it's finally over." Turning her attention over to Akuha, she drifted over to the vampire. "You're the one who caught her, then? Miss, uh—" she turned to the other succubus curiously.

"Ah, just call me Yuki!" the guide bubbled cheerfully, giving a clumsy salute.

The officer rolled her eyes. "Right, Miss Yuki told me what happened here. Let me thank you for helping put down a dangerous criminal. You've done a big favor to Yomotsu, and saved a lot of girls from an ugly fate." She extended her arm for a handshake with Akuha, then spared another glance at the corpse. "Shame really. Turns out she was forced into sex work at a young age herself. Eventually, I guess it's no surprise she turned out this way." The others were silent, unsure what to say. At last, the woman whirled around, ready to take her leave, but Tsukune had a sudden question.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, confused. "You're just leaving? You don't need to take us in for our statements or something?" That was how it'd be done in the human world, after all.

The officer merely gave the boy an odd look, scratching an itch on her eyebrow. "Huh? Where are you from, kid? I just have to go submit my report, and it's case closed. I don't know what you're babbling about."

"Forgive him, he's from…" Akuha paused. "Out of town."

The succubus shrugged carelessly, muttering to herself. "Cute guy, but pretty clueless…" Like an arrow, she shot through the hole in the ceiling, disappearing from view and leaving the group alone. It was a moment before anyone spoke, but shortly Yuki piped up, running her hand over a small scar on her arm. "Ok! The police will take care of cleaning up this place later, so how about we be on our way? The Matron is waiting for you."

Casting her gaze at the others, Akuha hesitated. Kahlua had only just managed to rise, although she was clearly avoiding eye contact with Moka, who herself was eerily still as she gazed at the ground. Akuha sighed, unsure what to do. Turning to Yuki, she ground her palm against her forehead. "Yuki, please go wait outside. I think we need a minute here."

Understanding that a matter of some gravity had occurred, Yuki nodded, sympathy written on her features, then flew up and out to give them privacy. Alone with the troubled trio, Akuha pondered in her mind what to say. They were on a tight schedule, after all, and it's not like anything could be done for them at the moment. She turned to Kahlua, who was visibly attempting to gather herself. Kahlua, at least, Akuha knew would understand the propriety of putting personal troubles aside until their mission was complete. "Okay. Kahlua, are you going to be alright? You can talk about things later, if you'd like, but we really have to go."

True to her expectations, the dark-skinned woman nodded. "I understand," she said, forcing strength back into her words. "You're right, Akuha."

The eldest Shuzen then looked to Moka, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. Her heart thumped, unhappy that she had to watch her idolized sister so upset. "Moka," she made her voice tender, "Let's get moving, ok? I'll also help you later if you want me to, but we have to go. You agreed you'd help, remember?" Ruffling the girl's hair affectionately, Akuha turned to the exit, Kahlua on her heel.

Tsukune had no choice but to follow, casting a sad glance at Moka. He would need to do something big to make up for this, he thought. Kahlua may have been Charmed, but he could have done something, should have resisted, stopped it somehow. He sighed, feeling a sharp headache coming on. So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, he didn't notice that Moka was not following them, indeed hadn't moved from her spot. Only when he almost crashed into a halted Akuha did he turn and realize it.

"Moka? Aren't you coming?" Akuha called out. But Moka didn't respond, rigidly standing her ground, near-imperceptible tremors running along her body. "Moka?"

At last the girl spoke. "Akuha-neesan." Her voice was as cold as before, and Tsukune thought he even saw a speck of blood drip from her palm. Moka paused. "Why? Why did you…why did you do that?"

Akuha tilted her head in confusion. "Do what? Are you talking to me, Moka?"

"Moka," Tsukune ventured softly. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. I swear I'll do anything to make this up to you. Don't blame Kahlua, it wasn't her fault. I should've—_aagh!" _He cringed, for as soon as his voice left his lips, he felt a powerful sensation course through his body. A foreign feeling, one he couldn't remember ever experiencing before. And yet, somehow he knew exactly what it was.

What he was sensing, growing stronger and stronger in his gut, was the storm in Moka's heart. Her emotion. Her rage. He couldn't think of any rational explanation for why he knew that. It just seemed…obvious, this impossible bond. It was almost as if they shared a body, one that was rapidly being flooded from the inside out with an untempered inferno, blazing a smoldering trail through his stomach, up into his chest, wreathing his heart in flame. And then, up through his spine, the back of his neck, the fever exploding into his skull, blinding his vision, _their _vision, with tempestuous, violent red. Consuming, all consuming, the fire crackled and hissed and seethed in his brain, his mind, blocking out all sense. Seeking, searching for a way out, an escape, a desperate and frenzied hunt for a release from this fleshy prison, for a target to swarm and burn and kill and quench this single desire for blood and vengeance. It needed satisfaction, demanded it, would not stop battering her senses until it had it. But then, what was she supposed to take her fury out on now? Through the tumult, Moka managed to find words.

"I don't blame her, Tsukune! Or you!" Even she was surprised to hear how savage she sounded. Her eyes focused on Akuha. "But…she was mine. You took that from me, robbed me! I was going to be the one to kill her, Akuha! _Me! _That bitch hurts Tsukune and Kahlua, threatens to make me a whore, and you steal my revenge away!" Furious tears were streaming down her face. The anger she felt was too overwhelming for Tsukune, who had to drop to one knee to breathe under the whirlwind of emotion he felt in Moka. "What am I supposed to do, Akuha?" she railed, the hate in her voice undercut by a chaotic desperation. "I have all this rage inside me, and now she's dead. You killed her, and I—I—! Who am I supposed to take this out on now? What am I supposed to do?"

Silently Akuha watched and listened, her brow furrowing in deepening concern. Moka was getting hysterical, and might even start hyperventilating soon. Or worse. If her Shinso blood were to activate…well, any number of bad things might happen. She had to help her baby sister immediately. But how? _Wait…of course. It's the only way. _The answer was clear. Stepping forward, Akuha made eye contact with the distraught girl. "I understand, Moka," she said calmly. "Then, please, release your hate on me." She stood in place, rigid, chin up high. "Hit me, until you're satisfied. Don't hold back."

A worried look came to Kahlua's face and she tugged at her sister's arm. "What are you talking about, Akuha? If she's going to hit anybody, it should be me. I'm the one who—

"No, Kahlua." Akuha firmly pushed the gloved arm away. "It's fine. I'll be the one to take it. It's my responsibility to take care of Moka, and if this is what it takes, I'll do it."

"Hey, wait a minute." Tsukune turned to Akuha, his head still throbbing with disturbed emotion. "That's not your responsibility, Akuha. It's mine. Let me help Moka, please." The eldest Shuzen stared at him, flustered, almost aghast at his words.

"Y-yours? A-are you saying I'm unfit to protect my little sister?" she sputtered indignantly. "That somehow you are better qualified? Don't be absurd! How dare you say such a thing! If you think for a second that I'll just let—

"That's enough." Everyone froze as Moka's commanding tone reached their ears. "Despite what you all might think, I don't need to be 'protected' or taken care of." She still trembled with anger, though a subtle smirk dared tug at her lips. "However, Akuha-neesan, I can't say I hate your idea. We can even consider it payback for what you did to Tsukune." Her big sister nodded, quietly bracing herself. No fear arose in her mind. Not like a lesser person, who would flinch or dodge at the sight of Moka barreling towards them. No, Akuha was not an inferior being, but a trained warrior, her body honed for combat and death. She wouldn't budge.

A moment later, and Moka took off, launching herself from her rear leg towards her sister, murder in her eyes and a beastly roar tearing from her throat. Tsukune and Kahlua winced and shut their eyes as they prepared for the brutal scene, but Akuha remained a stone, staring down her silver-maned attacker with disciplined fortitude.

Then, leg swinging forward like a heavy beam, Moka's foot connected with the side of her sister's skull with a sickening crack. Akuha's eyes instantly went wide as her vision was thrown violently out of focus, her body flying sideways like a rag doll. She slammed into the wall of the foyer, making a crater in the polished stone upon impact. A cry escaping her chest, she coughed up blood as she sank to the floor, managing to land on her hands and knees. As her head rang and her vision swam crimson, she again found swelling pride in her strength. Her small body was wracked with fierce pain, but she wasn't in mortal danger, even from such a kick as would have instantly killed somebody normal and weak.

"Akuha!" Kahlua ran over to the stricken girl, worried, crouching by her side. Tsukune turned to Moka, shaken by the display of brutality. The girl stood there, shoulders slumped, panting heavily, soft shakes rippling through her body. Her expression was indiscernible. "Moka? Are you ok?" Tsukune asked. She turned to him, and then, to his surprise, grinned.

"Yeah," she chuckled softly, catching her breath. "That did feel pretty good, to be honest. It wouldn't have been good to hold that in." She turned to watch Kahlua help their dazed sister to her feet. "Don't worry about me, Tsukune. I'll be fi—_ah!" _She was cut off, because without warning, an intense pain shot through Moka's body. Recoiling with a shout, she clutched her visciously pounding head, only faintly able to hear Tsukune yelling her name and running towards her. _W-what is this? _She felt herself sink to the floor, shutting her eyes against the unforgiving hammer being smashed against her skull. Visions began swirling in her mind's eye, swiftly overwhelming her entire consciousness.

_She saw a woman. That woman, again. Her mother. In the corner of her gaze, she saw her on the floor, face down, arms splayed out. Pink locks dyed red in a pool of blood. Someone was screaming. Akuha was there too, eyes dead as the void. And Moka was in the air now, launching Akuha across the room. Distant anguish inside, forgotten fury. Hatred overtaking her world. Akuha crashed, the wall breaking, just as before—or was it later? Time's distance closed. Darkness welled up in her heart, clouded her sight, her soul with chaos. She knew fear, she knew despair. It was her screaming, she realized, and as she lost all sense—_she passed out on the floor, Tsukune dashing towards her.

_To be continued…_


	7. For Want of Composure, Pt 2

Sorry for the wait folks, busy schedule and everything. Anyway, thanks for the feedback and faves, and hope you enjoy!

**For Want of Composure, Pt. 2**

Slow dawn began to creep in through the boy's windows. Enveloped in soft warmth, he felt the first prickling of waking throughout his body. Prying his lids apart with effort, Tsukune groaned and rolled onto his back. He didn't want to get up. The sweet stupor of sleep still lingered about his limbs. His mind was far too hazy even to recall where he was or why. What was he supposed to do today? Oh well, it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it could wait a few more minutes. Or ten, or twenty. He was sure Moka would understand.

_Wait..._

_Moka!_

Everything suddenly came rushing back, flooding his brain with a bombardment of memories of the previous day's events. And with them, an oppressive dread sank in his stomach. He remembered what transpired, from the arrival in Yomotsu, to his and Kahlua's shameful misdeeds, to Amane's gory destruction. And Moka, she was hurt. She was shocked, she was enraged. She…

…wasn't here.

Indeed, Tsukune was presently reminded that he was the sole occupant of this room. Scarlet draperies hung low from the windows, bathing the walls with a soft glow. In fact, he hadn't paid it much thought last night, but now that he looked around, the designer of this place really favored this color. Even the heart-shaped pillow and velvet sheets beneath him were varying shades of red. A noise gradually worked its way into the boy's consciousness, as well – having been confined to the hum of the sterile airship for the past several days, Tsukune hadn't woken to the sound of birds chirping in some time.

_They have birds in this subterranean city?_

He swung his legs over the bed and slid to the floor, yawning. The surroundings really did make it clear he was in a hotel room of sorts. Staring down at himself, he lamented his absence of a change of clothes, still wearing his outfit from yesterday. Pushing aside his discomfort at the itch brought about by that and by lack of a shower, he meandered drowsily over to the door.

The quiet, empty hallway was his only greeter. Not knowing what to do next, Tsukune stopped to think. The others were here, also, but in which rooms? He couldn't remember. The ones right next to his, right? Tsukune was unsure he wanted to knock on a stranger's door in an ayashi city, lest he meet some foul-tempered killer.

_Then again, that's probably no different than stumbling upon Akuha's room._

Despite that thought, to be honest and to his complete astonishment, Akuha of all people was the only one of their group he didn't feel nervous about encountering at the moment. Kahlua—after what happened between them—was definitely on his avoid list for the time being, even if it hadn't been her fault.

And Moka…well, he personally might not have had any objections to seeing her, but who knew if she felt the same? After everything she'd endured, and fainting on top of that, he wouldn't be surprised if she was in a mood to rip his head off right now.

However, his worries were quickly made inconsequential as a voice echoed down the corridor.

"Tsukune?"

Thus addressed, the boy turned. There was standing the silver-maned girl herself, her poise dignified, her face expressionless but for the hint of red smudged just underneath her eyes. This did not escape Tsukune's notice.

_Was she…crying?_

He found himself unable to form a response. A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Moka spoke again, nerves faintly breaking through her stony façade.

"Good morning, Tsukune."

Clearly, Tsukune appreciated, she was trying to be cordial. Reaching deep within himself for courage, he fought to find his voice.

"G-good morning, Moka," he croaked, his throat suddenly begging for a drink. When she nodded silently, he went on, clearing his throat first. "How—how are you today?"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she spoke. "Forget about that, Tsukune. Tell me, what's going on? Where are we? What happened?"

"Moka, what do you mean?" he replied.

"I mean I have no idea where we are, or how we got here, or why. The last thing I remember is…" She trailed off, visibly uncomfortable and unable to go on.

Tsukune picked up quickly. "Ahh, yeah. You see, you kind of fainted after everything. We were all really worried, and Akuha even postponed her meeting with the Succubus Matron. That girl Yuki took us to this hotel to spend the night, and we put you to bed. Akuha said depending on your condition today, she would try to reschedule the meeting."

"I see… I do remember everything before that," she confessed, rubbing at her eye briefly, "but the rest was a complete blank." Tsukune swallowed and nodded. "So Akuha-neesan was inconvenienced by me. I can't say I'm too sorry about that," she mused aloud.

Tsukune laughed quietly before getting serious again. "Moka, listen. About yesterday—

He was abruptly cut off by Moka's hand, raised to silence him. "Not now, Tsukune," she said softly, looking to the floor. "I'd rather not think about that at the moment."

"I understand," he muttered.

Scratching her head absently, Moka glanced around the hall. "You know, I've been awake for a few hours," she began. "I was walking around earlier and this place has a nice wide open space outside."

"Oh, you've been up? Did you see Akuha or Kahlua yet?"

Moka shook her head. "No, I haven't. Maybe they're still in their rooms. But that's not my point. As I was saying, there's a spot outside that I think is just perfect. It's secluded, within a bunch of trees. There's nobody there, and we shouldn't be disturbing anyone. It should work fine."

"Work fine?" Tsukune cocked his head. "For what?"

"Tell me, Tsukune." She looked him square in his still sleepy eyes. "When was the last time we sparred together?"

"…Huh?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As it so happened, Akuha and Kahlua had awoken before Moka, before the artificial sun of Yomotsu had even begun its course along the mural sky. The eldest had been up first, and quickly left her room to go on a short walk outside before it was time for the noisy day to thrust her numerous responsibilities back upon her. An irritating twinge occupied her chest for reasons she did not know; she hoped this walk would help. She had unexpectedly met Kahlua in the hotel's lobby, the dark-skinned girl having the same idea as her sister, and both had decided to accompany each other on a quiet stroll.

And there they were, now making their way through the wooded area surrounding the building. Currently they walked in a tiny glade, tall trees around them shielding them from the pale dawn light, leaves whispering heavily in the breeze. The two young women plodded on slowly, savoring what little pleasure they could get from this time away from the world. They passed a pair of lumbering incubi silently raking the leaves from the path; the creatures left the girls unacknowledged as they walked.

Yet, peaceful as their surroundings were, inside Kahlua was no less than a disturbed surge of bitter emotions. Not forgotten were the events of yesterday to her, either, a dull pain resting uninvited in her heart. She had hoped a nice walk in the brisk morning calm would prove a balm to her soul, but so far, it was a fruitless effort. Nothing she could think of would make her betrayal of Moka—unintended as it had been—go away so easily.

Despite the girl's attempt to keep the harsh guilt to herself, it seeped onto her features enough for her older sister to take note. Halting in her march, she chewed on her lip, glancing at the blonde assassin. "You know, Kahlua," she said, her soft tone still cutting the stillness of the air. "You always were the most gentle of us. Even I, the sister who lived with you least, could see that."

Her mulling trance broken, Kahlua looked at her. "A-Akuha?"

Keeping even pace, Akuha smiled. "I always found it quite endearing, for someone strong as you to have such a soft heart."

"What can I say?" Kahlua replied. "I am who I am."

"Nothing wrong with that. But, keep in mind, Kahlua," at that her voice grew serious, "Such emotion is often a liability for people in our line of work. It's not just me saying that, either. Father also thought you needed to be a bit tougher when it came to your feelings."

"A-Akuha!" A look of fright suddenly crossed onto Kahlua's face. "You're not supposed to—

Her sister stared at her. "Hm? Oh, that. Please, dear sister, there's no reason to worry about that here. But come, don't get off topic."

"I'm not," she insisted. "But, are you sure you're one to talk about this, Miss Googly-Eyes-For-Moka?"

"Th-th-that is completely beside the point!" Kahlua smirked softly at how flustered she could make her sister. "This is not about me. Whatever I may feel about Moka, I'd never let it get in the way of my mission. In the way of what must be done."

Silence met her sputtering outburst, and Kahlua simply stared at her, as if examining her sister carefully. Before long, Akuha grew impatient. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," Kahlua said plainly. "I'll be fine, though. Don't worry about it. I'm not going to suddenly leave my duties unfulfilled."

Akuha narrowed her eyes and paused at a wooden bench beside the path. "I hope not. Say, remember back when we were little, and you broke your mother's glass sculpture?"

"Y-yes, I think so?"

"Do you remember how mad she got at you? She yelled and yelled, but she eventually forgave you. Remember? So, I'm sure Moka will too, eventually."

"Yes, but," she raised her eyebrow, "you were the one who dared me in the first place to do cartwheels across the room blindfolded, Akuha."

The older girl blinked, then laughed lightly. "Oh, right, I forgot about that! Ok, bad analogy. Never mind, never mind, haha!" She paused, wiping her eyes at the memory under Kahlua's irked expression. "Hey," she started again, "What you said before about me and Moka. How about you? Are you saying you don't care for her?"

A melancholy laugh escaped Kahlua's lungs in answer. "If that were true, I wouldn't be feeling the way I am now. I wouldn't care what I had done to her, or to Tsukune. Whether it was my will or not." She sighed heavily. "But for better or worse, that's not how it is. I can't ignore it so easily, Akuha. I can't be cold like that, I can't be like—

She hushed up abruptly, swallowing the remainder of her sentence. Tossing a glance towards the brunette, she turned red in embarrassment.

"What, like me?" Akuha raised her eyebrow.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that," Kahlua apologized sheepishly. "It was an improper thing to say."

"Don't worry about it. Yeah, I know I'm tougher than you," Akuha teased. Picking out an agreeable spot on the bench, she sat down. "But really, you don't have to pretend to ignore it. Somehow, even though we were raised in the same type of environment, our personalities turned out pretty different."

Kahlua stood before her sister, not feeling like sitting. "Nevertheless, I was lucky enough to have Moka, and Kokoa, even Akasha. I was truly fortunate for them to be in my life. But, didn't you once say the relatives who raised you were…not the nicest people?"

The older girl shrugged indifferently. "That's just the way it was back then. Ultimately, I was there to serve as a weapon for them, and that's how I was treated. It was nothing I couldn't handle."

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that, Akuha."

Akuha shook her head dismissively. "It's no big deal. You don't have to feel sorry for me, or pretend I'm the nicest person there is. Like you said, I am who I am, right?" A distant smile ghosted her face, but quickly disappeared in the blink of an eye. "But, hey! How did we get onto me? I was trying to get you over your problems, not the other way around!"

Kahlua's shoulders slumped wearily. "I don't think I can get past it so quickly, Akuha. I did something that hurt Moka deeply, with the man she loves." She ignored the sour look Akuha got at the 'man she loves' part. "Speaking of which, I also hurt him, too, by my actions."

"Well, him I wouldn't lose too much sleep over," she scoffed. "He's just a human, after all."

"Oh?" Kahlua pursed her lips; again to her sister's annoyance she was scanning her face. "Are you sure you can say that so lightly?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm, I do wonder," she tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"What? What is it?"

"Well, it's simply that you seem to be awfully hard on Tsukune. More so than with most people I've ever seen you with."

"Of course. He _is _human, Kahlua, or have you forgotten? He's not fit to even be in our presence, yet I grant him that much. He should be groveling before us."

"Oh, I don't know. I don't find him so bad," Kahlua confessed, smiling fondly. "And surely you can see how much he means to Moka. I've never seen her with anyone else the way she is with him."

All this talk of Tsukune was quickly ruining Akuha's mood. "Don't remind me," she growled. "I still hope to help her get over that bad habit."

"Akuha." Kahlua's tone was chastening. "Come on, don't say things like that. But anyway, what I was getting at was, do you really hate him as much as you let on?"

"Absolutely. No question about it," she replied, fiddling with her hair.

"Then, why are you still keeping him prisoner?" Kahlua asked, confusion audible in her voice. "You take him aboard your ship, keep him there for days, you even had sexual relations with him for crying out loud! Twice, if I recall correctly, and willingly! I have severe doubts that you actually despise as much as you claim to."

"I-I never said there wasn't a certain attractiveness to him, for a human," Akuha stammered. "As for why I'm keeping him, I think it is good to watch him and make sure he doesn't have a negative influence on our sister. Also, we need her cooperation, and he can be used to persuade her if necessary. " She paused. "Plus, don't tell anybody, but his blood was one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted. It's almost dangerously addictive. But it was simply carnal, Kahlua, that's all."

"Perhaps," mused the other girl. "You may say that, but I've known you a long time, Akuha. And I've never sensed in you such a strong desire to return to a lover after being with them once."

The turn the conversation had taken was giving Akuha over to uncomfortable fidgeting. "What? You make it sound like I'm some type of slut who takes anyone she pleases to bed," she said.

Kahlua shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean. Even with just the few you've told me about, it's always been the case that once you were done, you were done. No lingering attachments or anything. They were out of your lives and you never saw them again. Never even thought of them again."

"Who says I have any such attachments with Tsukune?" Akuha demanded.

"Maybe you don't, I can't say. But truth be told, I think you were personally bothered by what happened yesterday, weren't you? Not just for Moka's sake, but because it was Tsukune who Amane made me attack. You may have done the same thing of course, but you didn't like it when someone else did."

"That's absurd. I'm not confessing to anything, Kahlua," Akuha said, crossing her arms. "You're being awfully chatty about this. What is your point here?"

"My point is, maybe you're not being completely honest with yourself. I have a strong suspicion that if it had been somebody other than him you'd captured, especially someone who fancied Moka, he would be dead by now. No matter how 'tasty' he was, or even how good he might be for leverage." She watched Akuha for any reaction. "Not to mention, I can't remember the last time I heard you ask anyone if they were alright, like you did yesterday." Her sister's glare did not slow her down. "I don't know what it is about him specifically, but I don't believe you mind having him around."

"Hmph. Don't say such blatantly stupid things…" the girl muttered, turning away from her sister. "You're lucky I'm still tired, or I'd kick your ass for talking to me that way."

"Be nice," Kahlua scolded. "I'm just trying to help you."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Alright, he's cute in a certain way, yes. Happy? You get that much out of me. But I'm not going to admit anything more." Rising from the bench, she resumed her stroll several paces ahead of Kahlua. Grumbling, she called back, "Let's head back, now that you've spoiled the pleasant mood here. Come, we have to prepare for things today. Gah, can't believe you shifted our talk back to me again."

Nodding dutifully, Kahlua followed in the older girl's footsteps. "Always so stubborn," she mumbled. The faux sun had slid a little higher onto the arching dome above them, the painted rock gradually changing hue from dark night to early morning. Akuha ambled on, the discomfort in her chest having only increased by Kahlua's persistent questions. Why was she feeling this way? She most certainly hadn't known Tsukune long enough to become, at minimum, comfortable with him, and even if she had, he was still a human. The very thought made her want to wretch, but at the same time…it didn't. Of course the former feeling was fiercely dominant, but the other was still there, nagging, a small speck of doubt and recent uncertainty. She squashed it as best she could, as she had the last couple of days. But so far it kept returning, and she suspected it would again.

No, she hadn't liked what happened yesterday. But that was only because Moka had been hurt, right? Yes, she asked the boy if he was alright, but that was simply because…because…wait, why _had _she done that? It wasn't like she cared to know, it had just slipped out, almost subconsciously. Remembering it now unnerved her, for it threatened to disturb her perfect confidence and pride as a vampire. If that were to happen, she thought, she'd risk distraction from her mission, just like Kahlua was over yesterday's incident. An unacceptable outcome. She couldn't let doubts or uncertainties infect her now, at this point in her life.

But then, why did Kahlua's words bother her so?

In any case, there was one thing she was sure of. Her sister's ears picked up her words as she spoke. "I'll tell you something else, Kahlua. I'm glad I arrived when I did, yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"If I hadn't, then Moka would've slaughtered that succubus. And…" She trailed off, biting her lip, her brow furrowed, unable to finish the sentence.

Kahlua blinked, but quickly came to understand. Akuha didn't need to finish. She herself had often shared the thought, and now that Akuha brought it up, she realized she was glad for it, too. "I know," she replied, just loud enough to be heard. It was almost tangible, this shared wish of theirs – another thing they had in common. That their beloved sister would never start down the same dark, blood-soaked road they knew so well.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Damn, she is on fire today!_

Sweat clung to Tsukune's entire body, dampening his clothes, his heart pounding harshly in his ears. Panting, he was quickly forced down to the ground to duck a solid kick from Moka. Her foot caught air, her body twisting to land upright as she returned to earth. Tsukune cursed his weak arms; even with all his training, he no longer had the strength to block Moka's blows. He had managed to stop several kicks before his limbs had turned to jelly, leaving him to dodge and evade her attacks, all the while vigilant for an opening in her defenses. So far, no luck on that front, however.

He had thought it strange when Moka brought up sparring and led him to this spot outside. He thought it strange when, here, in the middle of all places, she told him she felt it had been too long since their last practice, and that she didn't want him getting soft. But, he wasn't about to refuse her anything today, and so the challenge began.

He was starting to regret his decision.

No sooner did he dodge the most recent blow than Moka was on him again, boosting off the ground into another roundhouse kick. Tsukune dropped back down, leaving the tree behind him wide open to attack. With a shout, Moka connected her leg with the bark; to Tsukune's awe, it quickly gave way before her, the wood splintering and cracking and tumbling to the ground with a heavy groan. The crash rang in Tsukune's eardrums, so much he almost didn't catch the opportunity presented him: a gap in Moka's guard!

Balancing himself on his rear foot, he sprang up, fist extended and aimed square at the girl's gut. Not too hard, though, for he still couldn't bring himself to hit her full force, strong as she was. Moka's eyes widened as she spotted the incoming bullet; she was still in midair, she wouldn't have time to shift her position or the leverage to block!

But, wait! The broken tree was still falling to the ground. Time slowed down in Moka's mind, her perception honing in on the airborne log beside her. There it was. If she could just _twist _that way, get her leg just right—there!

Bracing herself what little she could, she shot forward with a powerful front kick. Only quick reflexes and a bit of luck saved Tsukune from taking it right in the gut; feinting slightly sideways mid-punch, he raised his other arm and caught Moka's leg with a block before jumping back hastily.

Her attack foiled, Moka landed on the ground with a thud. Growling, she pounced, assaulting Tsukune with a barrage of fists and feet. Thanks to their training, Tsukune was able to dodge most of the blows. Every few seconds, however, a hit would connect, glancing off his chest or shoulders. Pain shot through his body then, his lungs working in a mad rush to pump oxygen.

Moka advanced firmly, seemingly everywhere to Tsukune, her speed and power overwhelming him. Close as they were, he could see how flushed her cheeks were, matching his own. Ferocious passion clouded her eyes; sweat clung to her flesh, matting her hair to her face, her heady scent filling Tsukune's senses as she closed in. Catching him off guard, at last her foot struck his stomach solidly, sending the boy flying back into a pile of leaves.

Thankfully his landing was softer thanks to this, but the hit still took the wind from him. He could feel a dull throb in the scar he had received from Akuha. Panting, he stared ahead as Moka approached him. She squatted before him, her own chest heaving from exertion, examining Tsukune's condition.

"Uncle! I give up! I surrender!" he cried. "You win, Moka."

"Already?" She cocked her head. "I know you have more in you than that, Tsukune."

"N-no more. Please. You got me."

"Come on," she insisted. "You need to be strong enough to take on Fairy Tail. Isn't that what you wanted?"

_She's right. _Taking a deep breath, Tsukune closed his eyes, gathering himself together. Readying the muscles in his legs, he struck, catching Moka suddenly with a leg sweep. Down she fell with a sharp yelp, but put her arm out to cushion her drop. She landed heavily, wincing at the impact.

"Moka!" Tsukune jumped up to help her. "I'm sorry, that was too much, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Gently, Moka brushed away his proffered hand. She flexed around the wrist she had landed on. "That was good, Tsukune. You kept your wits about you, even when you were begging for mercy—though I wouldn't recommend doing that part too often. And don't worry about me. You don't think I'm some fragile doll, do you?"

"Of course not," Tsukune said. "But I still don't like attacking you."

A tiny smile spread across Moka's lips. "Thank you, but I'm alright." Moving to rest against a tree, she dusted herself off before sitting. He joined her. "You're getting stronger, Tsukune. That's a very good thing. And also, I needed this, too. It helped me vent some…frustrations."

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Tsukune knew what she meant. Yesterday's events still had to be gnawing at her heart, no matter how much of a front she put on. Reaching out tentatively, he laid a tender hand on her knee; he was relieved when she didn't pull away. "I really am sorry."

She let the apology linger for a minute. A sigh left her lips. "I know. I told you already, I think, but I don't blame you. Or even Kahlua. It wasn't her fault." She grimaced. "But, even so, it doesn't just disappear. And I didn't even get to kill that woman."

"I'm kind of glad you didn't," Tsukune said, running his fingers along her toned leg. "You're not the type to kill someone out of anger, Moka."

She glanced at him, frowning. "You don't think she deserved it? She wanted you dead, Tsukune, and me—she was a horrible criminal! You can't think—

"Moka," he interrupted, "Relax, I'm not talking about whether she was guilty or not. Either way, to slaughter like that in a rage, Moka…I think it's beneath you. It's not who you are."

"But I would have! If Akuha-neesan hadn't shown up, I probably wouldn't have stopped until she was dead." She looked down, strands of silver hanging over her face. "Then what would you think of me…?"

Seeing Moka so troubled tugged at Tsukune's heartstrings, guilt washing over him perceiving himself at fault for it. Scooting closer to her, he slid his arm tenderly around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his body; once more, she did not resist. "Moka, you're the person I respect most in the world. Yeah, I'm glad it wasn't you who killed her, but if you had…well, I don't know. I'd probably be more worried for you in that case. Wouldn't you feel the same about me, if our positions were reversed?"

"Yes, I suppose," she replied. A faint shade of scarlet had tinged her cheeks at the close contact between their damp bodies, though her expression remained stoic. "I did feel that way back when you first transformed into a ghoul, and went on the warpath against that Mido guy. It didn't help that your condition was my fault."

Tsukune laughed. "I know what you mean there. I feel like I could've done something to stop yesterday, too."

"I told you, I don't blame you for that, Tsukune."

"And I don't blame you for this," he said, turning to face her with his hand held up, the holy lock on his wrist plainly visible. "I don't regret having your blood inside me, Moka, no matter what you may think."

"I guess we're just a couple of guilt-ridden people then, huh?" She turned her head as well, smirking faintly.

"Looks like it," he agreed. "Maybe we should be easier on ourselves. You really are the person I respect most of all, Moka. And…the person I love most, too."

Both of their faces turned an equally fierce red. Moka blinked and glanced down nervously at her lap. "D-don't say such sappy things," she mumbled. "B-but, you're right. And I guess we should be glad Akuha-neesan arrived when she did." She paused, before slowly rising and dusting herself off. "Anyway, thanks, Tsukune. I feel a little better. And you really are getting stronger. If we have to fight Fairy Tale all out, that will be a good thing. Especially, if necessary, it comes to the point where we have to fight…my sisters," she finished quietly.

"Speaking of which," he started, "I'm still not happy that we're here to help them. But you told me to trust you, Moka. And I do, but I wish you would tell me what's going on."

Moka shook her head. "I think it's better if you don't know yet, Tsukune. Please, continue to trust me. I won't help Fairy Tale if I can help it." The silver-haired girl exhaled deeply, inhaling the fresh morning air; the day's full light was now upon them, which meant Akuha would be coming to gather them soon. It was probably time for them to head back inside. Extending her hand down, Moka grasped Tsukune by the wrist and helped him up, the boy groaning as his now sore muscles were stretched. "Let's go," she said. Before she started walking, however, she paused, biting her lip and staring Tsukune in the eye. "Oh, and for the record…you're the person I love most, too," she mumbled. "And, you're mine."

At that, Moka leaned in close to Tsukune. He gulped, suddenly aware of the extreme proximity of her moist, pink lips, her delicately flushed cheeks, her heavy eyelids. He couldn't help but incline his head towards her as well, inching closer…closer, letting his own eyelids drop…

And a sudden sting on his neck shot his eyes wide open. He gasped, Moka's silver mane right under his nose as she tenderly nipped at the flesh, drawing the smallest amount of blood onto her tongue. God, she smelled good.

Gulping it down, she pulled back, a sheepish smile pulling at her mouth. "Sorry," she said. "But, it's been a while since either of me has tasted you."

Emboldened and cheered by their intimate act, Tsukune grabbed Moka by the shoulders as she made to leave and planted a soft kiss upon her lips. Caught off guard, Moka gasped into his mouth, before slowly accepting the kiss and pressing her own lips firmly against his.

A cleared throat ended the moment in an instant. Breaking off the kiss, they turned to see a seemingly irritated Akuha and a slightly amused Kahlua approaching where the path opened into the clearing. "If you two don't mind," the eldest began, "It's time for us to get going. It was pure luck I got another audience with the Matron after canceling on her last minute, and there is no way we are going to miss it this time."

"S-sorry," Tsukune blushed, scratching his head nervously. Turning to Moka, he quickly muttered, "Hey, what you said before about 'either of you.' …How is she?"

"She's fine," Moka returned without pause. "Don't worry." Turning back to the hotel, she began her walk back. A tightness gripped at her breast; she didn't want to worry Tsukune, especially when she was uncertain of things herself. To be sure, Omote was ok the last time she checked, which was the day before. However, since then, she had been too apprehensive to peek inside her soul as she usually did. All because of that vision. That memory. Was it a memory? It wasn't the first time she had seen these images, of Akuha and her mother together. But yesterday, during the moment she lost control completely…the feelings of hate, of anguish, of the thirst for blood and the deepest darkness imaginable rapidly devouring the entire world around her… What was that? Had they been…fighting? None of it made sense.

It was fuzzy now, but fear had taken hold in her heart, fear of looking within and being engulfed in that endless black sea once more. Being lost in the chaos and confusion. Or, maybe worse, catching a glimpse behind the darkness instead. What could be the source of this scratching sensation she had felt recently? Almost like a rat scraping its claws along the cold, hard stone of a back alley wall.

But, she couldn't be distracted by that now. There were other matters to worry about. Tsukune's safety, for one. And as she started back, Akuha made her way over to the smitten boy. Peering up at him, she narrowed her gaze, pricking her lip with her fang. She poked a surprisingly strong finger into his chest. "I'm watching you," she said. "Behave yourself, got it?"

And off she went, trailing behind Moka. Confused, Tsukune glanced around. His eyes finding Kahlua, the two of them blushed heavily, and the blonde vampiress scurried off after her sisters without a word. The boy blinked, unsure of what just happened.

_Eh? Did Akuha seem like she was trying not to get too close to me?_

_To be continued…_


	8. For Want of Composure, Pt 3

A/N: Quick note. Some of you may already have seen this, but I left a message on my profile page that I'll copy/paste here: "I've decided to start using this page to post updates from time to time on whatever fics I'm working on, for those who are curious. Especially since I don't have a lot of time to write and new chapters unfortunately don't come at the fastest pace."

For those who already did see this, sorry for the delay in the chapter! I was finished with this one a few days ago, but after starting immediately on the next chapter, which turned out to be shorter than this one, decided to wait a couple more days and post both at once, since it's been such a long wait since the last chapter.

That's all I wanted to say. Thank for the faves and comments folks, they are much appreciated!

(This author's note will self-destruct after an indeterminate yet sufficient amount of time)

**For Want of Composure, Pt. 3**

It was afternoon. The artificial sun had made its way to the roof's peak, and now illuminated the entire sprawling city of green and of steel. The succubi below went about their day. At work, or with lovers, these two engagements sometimes overlapping. All was in order.

At the city's center, Tsukune turned a glance to his sides, noticing the flawless apple trees that lined the pathway to the Hall of Innocence. This grand rotunda, as seat of government, occupied the exact center of the city, the nexus of all its political traffic. As such, it had been surrounded, for aesthetic effect, with sculptures, detailed statues of past Matrons, glittering walkways, trickling streams, and various flora, including the trees now in Tsukune's vision. They truly looked beautiful, he thought, although some of the fruit that hung from the branches looked inexplicably rotten. Tsukune grimaced. Ahead, Akuha, Kahlua and their guide Yuki had gone up to the wide double doors that led to the Hall's entrance. The succubus' wings were spread wide, flapping gently as she lazily hovered alongside her charges. They were now giving their credentials to the two guards standing before the entrance – stunning women, both, Tsukune thought without surprise. He had found Yomotsu to have a chilly autumn temperature, but apparently these succubi had higher tolerance for cold, given their open jackets with nothing beneath, or shorts barely longer than underwear. Truly, this city would be a dream come true for many of the teenage guys from school.

Moka's voice beside him caught his attention: "Remember what I said, Tsukune."

He looked at her, nodding, thinking back to her revelation earlier that day.

_It was time for them to depart. Yuki had arrived later that morning to deliver them to the Hall of Innocence, their audience with the Matron confirmed. They would be taking the monorail that coursed high above the city streets, this being the most expeditious way, all the way to the central dome._

_Akuha and Kahlua had walked together towards the platform near their hotel, with Tsukune and Moka dragging their heels behind. The two Fairy Tale guards who had accompanied them from the airship brought up the rear, their stony faces betraying no expression. With each step, the two members of the Newspaper Club were moving closer and closer to an encounter that could strengthen Fairy Tale with new allies, and worse, they would be used for assistance towards this very end. This worry gnawed away at Tsukune. Akuha's condition for letting him free from the airship's cell had been to take advantage of Kurumu and her mother's fondness for him, using Tsukune as a sort of ambassador, as it were. A way to grease the wheels of friendship between Fairy Tale and Kurumu's fellow succubus. It did sound a little strange, now that he thought about it, a bit of an unreliable plan, but he figured it was pointless to try to guess the workings of Akuha's mind. Even after all the time they had spent together—and then some—he still could not tell what the black-haired vampire was thinking. Akuha must have had faith in the importance of Tsukune's being enamored by a succubus._

_Well, it did make sense, he supposed. He had not really had a chance to see if it was also the case here, but his experiences with Kurumu had indicated to him that love was a vital, cherished aspect of succubus life. If the Matron was told a boy who—by appearance, was a member of Fairy Tale—had the love and approval of a succubus family, perhaps it would hold some weight. Whether or not Kurumu actually loved him, Tsukune was unsure, but if that was Akuha's reasoning, it was a little more understandable._

_All this was why it was so surprising when Moka told him what she did. They had been trailing behind her sisters, out of sight and, conveniently, out of earshot. The anxiety eating at Tsukune over being used to help the organization wanting to exterminate humanity was becoming unbearable as the meeting drew near. He remembered Moka's assurances, her entreaty that he trust her, that everything would be okay. And he did trust her, it was just…growing ever harder to ignore his unease. He had to know._

_He begged her to let him know, to tell him what was keeping her calm about this, what it was she knew. To his relief, she must have seen how upset he was becoming. She knew she had Tsukune's undying trust. If he was going so far as to plead for information now, even after she had denied him earlier, he must have been suffering._

"_Alright," she finally acquiesced. "I'll tell you, Tsukune. I only kept it to myself so you could act natural. That said, if I tell you, will you be able to keep up the pretense of ignorance in front of my sisters?"_

_Tsukune nodded. "Of course."_

_Glancing ahead at her sisters to make sure they were far enough away, Moka chewed her lip pensively. "Okay. You know Akuha-neesan is planning to use your, and I suppose mine as well, friendship with Kurumu to get Fairy Tale into Yomotsu's good graces. She might even bring up Kurumu's feelings for you, if she thinks it will help her."_

_Tsukune felt his cheeks heat under Moka's gaze. "A-ah, yeah," he chuckled nervously. "I-I mean she could say that, whether it's true or not… Not that I think it's true! I'm sure Kurumu just thinks of me as a friend. Um…"_

"_Relax, Tsukune." A soothing smile graced the vampire girl's lips. "There's no need to try to pretend in front of me. It's not like I don't know. Who do you think gave Akuha-neesan that information?" She watched the tension in his jaw lessen. "It's no secret Kurumu likes you. And Mizore. And Yukari. Hell, probably Ruby, too. I'm sure each of them would love to get you into bed."_

"_T-that's not true…" _

_His protest was met with a knowing look. "Mhm," she hummed. Her tone was teasing. "Whether you want to admit it or not, Tsukune, you're quite popular with girls. It's something I've known since practically the beginning. You can't deny it," she went on, cutting off another interjection. "Even Akuha-neesan was drawn to you, and—" _

_She stopped. Both she and Tsukune knew she had been about to say Kahlua, though for obvious reasons had decided against it. "Well…the less said about that, the better."_

_They walked on in silence for a minute, before Moka spoke again. "But, you might as well face it. You're a ladies' man, Tsukune. Most guys would be happy about that, I would think."_

_Tsukune frowned, perplexed. Wasn't it strange for Moka to talk so calmly about other girls being attracted to her boyfriend? "You don't sound too upset about it." _

_She shrugged in response. "You would think with everything that's happened with you and my sisters, I would be even more overprotective or insecure over other girls wanting you. But you know, I'm just…not." She sounded as bewildered as Tsukune._

"_Really? Of course, I'm not saying you need to be, but, why?"_

_She glanced at him. "I think the things you said to me this morning helped. They were very sweet." At this, she turned red and paused, looking as if she was struggling to find the courage to speak her thoughts. "I-I know that I have your love, Tsukune. Even after Akuha-neesan…did that with you, and Kahlua, you didn't care about any of that. Other men would've been over the moon to have sex with two sisters beautiful as them—and believe me I know how beautiful they are—but you were only ever worried about me, and my feelings. That says a lot, and I guess helps ease my worry a bit." Catching Tsukune's shocked expression, she smiled, warming his heart with her beauty. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not okay with anybody just having their way with you whenever they want. I'm still upset at Akuha-neesan for that...although, it's not like I wasn't involved, as well…" They both blushed heavily at that, briefly flashing back to their initial, sweat-soaked night with Akuha. _

_Moka cleared her throat and continued: "I may still be upset at her for forcing herself on you, but it doesn't cause me any fear of losing you. And…I really don't want to become like that again, go berserk like I did yesterday." They walked on, noticing the monorail platform coming into view, from which they would shortly depart. "Listen. Kurumu, Mizore, all of them. They can want you in their beds as much as they please. I'm not going to go crazy over it. You know why? I have something they don't."_

"_What?"_

_Moka cocked her head at him, as if the answer were obvious. "Your heart, of course."_

"_Oh!" he exclaimed, catching on. "Absolutely. I love you, Moka, and I want us to always be together. Nothing is going to change that. You never have to worry about losing me."_

_Flushed as usual over his romantic words, Moka turned aside and felt her heart beat faster in her breast. "R-right," she stuttered. "Anyway, we've gone off topic. Yes, Kurumu likes you, but if you still want to hear my plan, listen up. We're almost at the platform."_

"_Yes, please tell me."_

_Together, they mounted the first step. "This is something Kurumu told me in confidence, one time we were having lunch together, just the two of us. Well, technically, she told Omote, but nevertheless. You can't tell anyone I told you."_

"_What is it?"_

_Moka paused, searching her mind for the best way to explain. "You know that for all its outward appearance, Yomotsu and its succubi are pretty traditional and conservative—by their standards, at least."_

_Tsukune nodded. He remembered Amane having said something to that effect yesterday._

_Moka went on: "Some of their traditions are more revered than others. And some are so sacred, no succubus would dream of going against them."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You've seen what status the incubi have in this place. They essentially work for and obey the succubi, no questions asked."_

_Again, he remembered Amane's words. "Yeah, I wish it wasn't that way, though."_

"_Well, Kurumu told me, one of the worst things a succubus can do is try to free an incubus from his master, no matter the cause. It's basically taboo, or borderline blasphemy."_

_As he started to catch on, Tsukune's eyes widened. In his silence, the sound of crunching leaves beneath their feet on the cold stone stairs intensified; of succubi children playing in a nearby park; of their guide's chipper chattering ahead of them with Moka's sisters. But Tsukune didn't pay those things much heed at this moment. "You're not saying…?"_

_Moka nodded solemnly. "It was her mother, apparently. Kurumu said it happened when she was very young, so she doesn't really remember. But, Ageha Kurono helped free an incubus from its master, and was banished for it. Forever."_

_Looking at the ground, Tsukune felt a stab of pity in his heart for their blue-haired friend. "That doesn't make sense. Why would she risk something like that, and when she had a daughter to look after?"_

"_I don't know," Moka confessed. "And I don't think Kurumu has ever asked her mom the reason, either. It can't be a pleasant subject for either of them."_

"_I can imagine…" Tsukune mused silently. Kurumu was always so kind, so pure-hearted, always bubbling with happiness. For someone like her to have been torn from her home at such a young age, forced to live as an exile, was just horrible. He turned back to Moka; he could see in her warm, ruby eyes the clear concern for their friend relating this story had given her. He, too, felt that pity. "Don't worry, I won't tell her you told me. But, then, you're thinking—_

"_Yes." She paused, nodding ahead at her sister who was urging her to hurry up. "If what Ageha did really is as big a transgression as Kurumu said, then your association with her and her family will most likely make this Matron want nothing to do with you or Fairy Tale. In fact, I'd imagine we'll be asked to leave immediately and never return." A faint smirk graced Moka's lips as she went over her plan._

"_I see. So that's what it was. You didn't mention that part to Akuha, and you're counting on Kurumu and her mom being such pariahs that even their friends will be viewed with disgust."_

_Moka shrugged. "Like I said, these succubi are pretty big on tradition, and the usual order of things. It may not be the perfect plan, but beggars can't be choosers. It's the only chance we've got. So, just play along, okay? Let Akuha-neesan say what she will, and everything should work out fine for us."_

"_But, won't Akuha be mad that you didn't tell her the whole truth?"_

"_I'll just say I didn't know. Don't worry, I doubt she could get angry at me if she tried, anyway."_

_Tsukune was silent, but he nodded his understanding. They had arrived at their departure point. Yuki ushered them all into the train car and to their seats. Directly seated across from Akuha and Kahlua, Tsukune fidgeted uncomfortably—Akuha wore her usual scowl as she glanced at him, her brow slightly raised, as if she were watching an animal at play for her amusement; Kahlua, understandably kept her quick-glancing eyes flitting around the car, avoiding Tsukune's at all costs. He shared the feeling. Minutes later, they felt the train rumble beneath their feet and begin to depart._

"Don't worry, Moka. I got it."

The girl didn't get a chance to respond, however, for her sister suddenly waved them over urgently. Unwilling to risk annoying Akuha, they quickly complied, breaking out into a light run until they reached the others at the entrance to the colossal dome. Once there, Yuki swept them through the opening doors. Inside, they passed through the small, surprisingly bare hallway, filled only with a few succubi coming and going, and arrived rather quickly at a smaller, glass, door. Through it, Tsukune could make out some windows of an inner chamber, above a handrail that ran across the room, but not much else.

Yuki broke the silence: "Okay, guys. We're almost there. Right through here is the Matron's audience chamber, where you will be meeting her shortly."

The party nodded, and was led inside the inner hall. Casting a wide gaze around, Tsukune marveled at the scene before them. It was a round, high room. The windows he had glimpsed before blazed brilliantly with the sunlight streaking through them, bathing the cavernous chamber. The five of them walked along the circular walkway running along the wall; peering over the railing, Tsukune saw the bottom of the hall itself, thirty feet below, at least. Lush, velvet rugs of blue and violet rested tenderly atop cold marble, trailing from what looked like the lower entrance to the chamber to a currently vacant seat on a small, raised dais – the Matron's throne, no doubt, going by the gleaming diamond patterns adorning the arms and back. Before this seat rested a table of fair size, dark wood, upon which had been placed several dishes and bowls whose contents were too far way to make out clearly. Tsukune's stomach rumbled; he sincerely hoped the food was for them, as it occurred to him they hadn't eaten all day. Moving his gaze then to the outer recesses of the chamber, he also spotted, with noted awkwardness, several succubi together with partners of varying species, engaged in rather…amorous activities. He quickly turned away, not wanting anyone, especially Moka, to catch him staring.

They walked along the ledge, getting occasional glances from a passing succubus here and there, going about her business. Tsukune imagined it wasn't too often such a motley group of foreigners came to see the Matron herself, no less, which might account for the funny looks.

Reaching another door in the outer wall, they entered, and after descending a few more flights of stairs under bright lamps, they emerged on the bottom level of the chamber. There, where it had been empty just minutes earlier, the opulent throne above them was now occupied, by who Tsukune assumed was their intended host. He darted his gaze about the wide walls, looking for where she might have entered so swiftly and silently, but could not gain a clue. All he could see were the vine-covered walls and fornicating succubi in the alcoves.

Although, from down here, he was able to get a fuller view of the ceiling: a colossal mural that stretched over their heads, dominated by the giant cedar running down the middle, its branches reaching out like spiders' web as if to envelop all who entered. White seabirds whisked across, some spiraling around the tree's heavy arms with wings spread, others swooping down towards the wild beasts that stood off to the side in the field, sheep grazing, bulls lowing, and snakes…snakes everywhere, in fact. Darting quietly under hoof through the tall grass, poking curious heads out from dark holes in the cedar's trunk, and even hiding among the uppermost leaves . One especially came into view, a serpent coiled tightly around a branch, snapping like a trap to catch one of the passing gulls; already its pale fangs bathed in the crimson blood of its victim, buried in the soft feathers of the bird. Tsukune grimaced, his attention now drawn to the figure at the center of it all. A woman, naked but for the translucent cloak about her shoulders, standing as the base of the tree, her skin like olive, with flowing locks of gold down her back. Small though she was in comparison to her surroundings, to look at her, she seemed to come to the fore of the image, relegating everything else to her shadow. A serpent slithered under her feet; she paid it no mind, instead gazing straight ahead with hungry green eyes and full lips. Tsukune had to remind himself he was merely looking at a work of art, so intoxicatingly lifelike was the woman and everything else in the picture above him.

"Alright now, you two." Akuha's whisper just barely reached his ears, occupied as he was, even in such a cavernous hall. "Best behavior. That goes double for you, Tsukune. Or it's right back in your cell."

"Don't worry, Akuha." Tsukune's own voice was not kind. "I'm not going to do anything to mess up your precious chances here."

The elder girl jerked her head sharply, eyes widened in anger at the boy's presumptuous tone, but she bit her tongue, exhaling sharply through her nostrils, remaining silent out of respect for the succubus before them. "Just. Watch. It." She breathed through gritted teeth, making a mental note to punish Tsukune later for his insolence.

Tsukune glared at Akuha's back for a moment, but felt his expression soften at a squeeze from Moka's hand to his. They were approaching the throne quickly, and he was now close enough to catch a glimpse of the Matron. His eyes settled on her.

Without warning, his heart leapt up in his chest at the sight. Perhaps it was something he should have expected—it seemed obvious, in hindsight—that the queen of the succubi should have looks beyond one's wildest imagination. But, he doubted even that would have prepared him for the overwhelming beauty that viciously flooded his senses the second he laid eyes on her. It was as if an aura emitted from her, something almost supernatural, giving her a shining splendor that almost made it difficult to even make out her form. Fighting through the enamored haze in his mind, Tsukune squinted in focus to get a clear view of the woman.

In all honesty, so potent was the whole of the Matron's loveliness and perfection, the fact of her bare breasts barely even registered with Tsukune. A soft, gentle brow rested above eyes sparkling like sunlight scattered upon the surface of the sea, moist, supple lips that were pulled ever so slightly into a delicate, radiant smile, and flowing curves hugged impossibly tight by a mere cloak and bustier, the latter stopping ever so short of covering her firm mounds. An unusual set of horns crowned her head at the temples, which only added to her exotic allure.

Tsukune knew he was staring. He couldn't stop if he tried. This succubus, it was almost unfair how stunning she was, as if she were from another world entirely, surpassing with ease even the most beautiful women of this world. She reminded him, in fact, of that enchanting creature in the mural overhead. Such thoughts ran through his mind, until a cleared throat brought him back to attention. Beside him, it was clear Moka, too, had been hopelessly spellbound by the Matron, and was only now breaking out of it, her eyes still out of focus. He shook his head to clear the last of the fog, feeling rather than seeing Akuha's horrified sidelong glare as they stopped before the dais. The others followed her and Yuki's lead in a slight bow of respect.

"Greetings, greetings, everyone." The Matron's voice was a sweet melody, echoing throughout the hall. Glimpsing the tension among her guests, she chuckled, beckoning them closer with a bejeweled arm – gem-filled bracelets covered her wrists. "It's alright. I never could learn to fully control my Charm powers. They were simply far too strong. But really, dears." Though she did not look at them, Tsukune and Moka knew it was they she addressed. "It would be wise to avoid eye contact with a succubus you just met."

"Forgive me, your highness." It was Akuha who now spoke, with a deference that caught Tsukune a little off guard. Apparently, Akuha could be polite when it served her needs. "I warned them regarding that issue yesterday, but it seems to have slipped their minds."

The Matron waved it aside. "Do not worry, my dear. They are not the first that has happened to, so do not be too harsh with them." She smiled at Akuha's nod. "Now, come! Come closer! Let me get a good look at you all." Her bright eyes scanned the faces of the group as they tentatively approached. "My, aren't you an attractive bunch," she crooned. Her eyes settled on Tsukune, widening in blatant appreciation; heeding the incident a minute ago, he shyly diverted his gaze, focusing on Moka's feet instead. "Especially this young man here. He's quite fetching. And what a physique!" Observing their clasped hands, she looked between Moka and Tsukune. "Is this your boyfriend, young lady?"

Moka shot to attention at being addressed, caught off guard by such a direct question. Glancing around at her sisters, she swallowed. Kahlua was half-turned towards her, her lips pulled into a small smile. Akuha, however, faced stoically forward, though Moka could swear her body seemed to have tensed a little. "Um, y-yes, ma'am," she choked out quickly, unsure of the proper decorum here. She knew she was blushing, how could she not? She was certainly unaccustomed to discussing her feelings in public. But, she felt there was no point in lying here, especially with Tsukune sitting right there. It was true, she supposed. The two of them were indeed a couple.

Their host smiled warmly, but with a glint of mischief in her eye. Her tongue flickered out over her lips, subtly. "Well, I'd say you are a very lucky woman, miss. He has a body to die for."

A slight frown furrowed Moka's brow, the Matron's admiration of Tsukune bringing to mind the ugly memories of Amane. Without even noticing, she took an almost imperceptible step to her side, putting herself partially in front of him, his hand behind his head in a nervous scratch. "I agree," she said, more firmly this time.

The woman's face lit up in adoration. "Oh, how adorable are you! Look how protective you are of him! You don't see that a lot anymore. That's so sweet." Moka remained silent, her brow raised, ignoring Kahlua as she sent a muffled giggle into her hand. The Matron continued, her tone growing solemn: "Well, I suppose that is to be expected, what with everything that you've been through." Kahlua's laugh was cut short. "I was extremely saddened to hear what had befallen you and your group. Such things unfortunately occur even in Yomotsu, and I am sorry for your experience. When I heard, well…what an awful thing." She trailed off, seeing by the darkened faces before her that it would be imprudent to go into detail. "In any case, that was the main reason I rescheduled for the earliest time possible. I figured it was least I could do as Matron to make things up to you. Now, come, sit. Eat. This food is for you."

Tsukune watched as Moka strained a gracious smile. It may have been her idea to go along with this plan, but she still had to fight the urge to burst out that this meeting was the last thing she wanted. Still, she remained quiet, nodding her head appropriately. They took a seat at the table, all on one side, facing their host. Tsukune found himself between Moka and Akuha, with Kahlua on the other end. Thankfully, he was surrounded on all sides so as to block from view the anonymous paramours littered about the chamber walls. More importantly, now that his attention had been called back to it, he gave the spread before them a once over, his nose taking in the delightful wafts, reminding him of his pleading stomach. All four of them had been given healthy servings of soup, generous porcelain bowls with carrots, other assorted vegetables, and several dumplings scattered throughout a light broth. On their other platters were placed thin strips of salmon, dried figs and apricots, cheese and hot loaves of bread. Glass goblets sat beside, filled with wine.

"Oh, I don't think I can drink this," he said.

The others turned to him. "Is something wrong?" asked the Matron.

"It's just, I'm a minor…"

"Hm?"

"I'm—I'm too young for wine, ma'am."

"Too young for wine?" she exclaimed. "What an odd thing to say. May I ask why you feel this way? Is it a self-imposed rule?"

"No, it's the law where I—the law in the human world."

"What?" The Matron's voice was incredulous. "My word, no wonder you lot seem to be such a miserable bunch! Ah, well. If you insist. Yuki, could you please fetch the boy some water?" Then, to him: "That's alright, yes?"

Tsukune nodded and thanked her graciously. With a bow, Yuki took flight from the hall to fetch their guest a drink. Meanwhile, the smells from the hot food were quickly driving Tsukune nuts, and he dug right in, manners be damned. The three girls followed suit, albeit with a bit more decorum.

"We greatly appreciate all this effort you've gone to for us, Your Highness." It was Akuha who spoke this time, taking her glass in hand. "Especially rescheduling so quickly. We apologize if we've inconvenienced you."

Beside her, Tsukune glared, growing red either from anger or the heat of the soup. What the hell did she mean by that? Like it was their fault he'd basically been raped, or that Moka had gone berserk and passed out? Speaking of which, he was still wondering about that. After Akuha arrived on the scene and killed Amane, Moka had just lost it, and had gone into hysterical fits of sorts before collapsing unconscious. It was truly unnatural, and almost reminded him of how Moka and the others had described his own demonic behavior during his ghoul episodes. What had been the reason for this? The look on Moka's face, the rage and the fury and that twisted aura. He had only seen it once before…

Nevertheless, how dare Akuha insinuate they had done wrong. He scowled darkly.

"No, no, it's nothing," the Matron insisted. "And please, dear, don't you worry about all this 'Your Highness' business. Queen or not—technically, though we don't use that term much anymore—it makes me sound old and terribly stuffy." She laughed, a light, airy sound that delighted Tsukune's ears; he had to catch himself to avoid succumbing to its effects again. To his side, he noticed Moka visibly having similar trouble, though she was mindful enough not to fidget as much as he was; she quickly reached for the bread to otherwise busy herself. Kahlua was hidden from view, but what little he could see of Akuha, however, only showed him statuesque poise and a blank expression under dark, thin brows. "Salome will be just fine," the succubus finished.

Tsukune blinked. Now that she mentioned it, she didn't look fully Japanese, or even Asian. And yet, this city was in Japan, was it not? And she was their Queen, yes? Tsukune could only assume that, given this, she had inherited her rule from the previous monarch. Such was how these things usually went. Furthermore, knowing by now that the succubi held power in Yomotsu, this meant an incubus could never be in such a position, and so most likely this place was ruled by a succession of succubi queens. Or Matrons, as they apparently preferred. And this being a home of primarily Japanese succubi, the Matron was probably expected to be of such descent herself, Tsukune thought. Which if this were true, it could only mean…

"As you might have guessed, my father was a foreigner." The Matron smiled as his surprise. "No, I didn't read your mind. Although we do have a power like that, you know." She shook her head. "No, I simply noticed you seemed to be in deep concentration, dear."

"S-sorry, ma'am," stammered Tsukune.

"Don't worry. He was a Minotaur, my dad, in case you were wondering." Tilting her neck, Salome reached up and lightly rapped on one of her horns "A prince of his people, came over here on diplomatic business from the Mediterranean islands. My mother was Matron back then. They met, and the rest as they say, is history."

"I see," replied Akuha, suggestively, taking up a dumpling. "Then I'm sure you of all people can understand the importance of cooperation and camaraderie between ayashi, Your Hi—ah, Salome."

"Straight to business, eh?" She turned to the young vampire. "Point taken. I suppose I have been rambling a bit. But, I know you came here with a purpose, and Yuki here" (the girl had returned with Tsukune's water) "was good enough to arrange things for today, so I'll just give you the floor. Go on," she gestured, "what is it you came here for, Akuha Shuzen?"

Clearing her throat, Akuha began, her voice loud and clear in the chamber: "Thank you. As you know, I am here on behalf of Fairy Tale. We're still a relatively new organization within the ayashi world, it's understandable if people don't know much about us. Let me explain—

Salome's raised hand interrupted her. "Please, Miss Shuzen. You think I don't do my homework? It's true, you are quite the secretive bunch, you and that group. Makes it much more difficult to get any solid information on you. However, do not think I'm completely deaf to the rumors that go through my territories. Word reaches me that you seek nothing less than the elimination of the entire human race and yet, here you are with one in your retinue."

"Yes, this boy is Tsukune Aono. His situation is…unique, but he is here to help us broker a deal, if necessary."

"Oh?" The gentle brows rose. "And what kind of deal did you have in mind?"

Tsukune saw Akuha trade a covert glance with Kahlua; the mocha-skinned girl nodded, and her sister continued: "Resources, my lady. As I said, Fairy Tale is young. Our manpower is still sorely lacking, especially if we are to wage a full scale assault on the human forces. We are in great need of more weapons, troops, and support in general."

"I should let you know," again the Matron interjected, "Yomotsu is hardly a breeding ground for soldiers. The guards you saw outside and the citywide police force is pretty much the extent of our combat expertise, Miss Shuzen."

Akuha spread her arms in supplication. "I am aware of that. But, be that as it may, we need allies, my lady. If we plan to expand, we need the good will of our fellow ayashi. We need to get our foot in the door of many different races, so to speak. Even if you don't believe you are suited to provide us with actual forces, it would still help us greatly to receive other types of assistance. Food, money, intelligence. If I seem vague, I apologize. But, we are currently drafting up the specifics of what such an agreement might entail, the exact list of what we would ask from you, and the benefits you would get out of the deal, as well. Including, particularly, Fairy Tale's protection from any enemies Yomotsu might have now or gain in the future. We can have the whole thing sent to you in a day or two." She paused, waiting to see if the Matron had anything to add, then continued when she did not. "That said, our operation is still small, and having a powerful backer like Yomotsu would do wonders for our efforts, and for our legitimacy, too. To be honest, I know the succubi's famed…let's just say persuasive skills, could go a long way for us with other groups of ayashi."

The Matron leveled her gaze, pursing her full lips. "You mean use our Charm to help convince those who might disagree with you to side with Fairy Tale. To better your image in the eyes of others."

"Oh, I certainly wouldn't expect you to force them or anything like that," Akuha said pleasantly, suddenly finding great fascination with an apricot between her fingers. "I would hope they would willingly see that what we are after is for the good of all ayashi everywhere, including themselves. But, if necessary, Fairy Tale would greatly appreciate it if we had friends such as yourselves to help them see this truth."

"You've made a dangerous assumption though, dear," Salome tisked. "I haven't yet said that Yomotsu will support you, or even that I sympathize with your goal."

"I understand," Akuha retorted, calmly. "But, you must see it yourself, my lady. Humans have long been our enemy. They have persecuted us for centuries. Millennia, even. As our various species grow in number, we are left with fewer and fewer places to hide and make our homes in secret. It is only a matter of time now before we are discovered by the human world, and then what? Strong as we are, their numbers still vastly dwarf ours. And when they learn of us, all of their nations will converge to exterminate the 'threat.' Surely you realize this. Fairy Tale intends to act before this catastrophe can happen."

Silence fell upon her conclusion. From her side, Tsukune shifted focus between the two women, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. The silence was creating a palpable tension as Akuha and Salome met each other's examining gaze, and Tsukune felt it. Not only that, an unexpected gnawing had taken root in his mind, causing him quite a bit of discomfort. Not physical pain, no. It was something else. Something that made him relinquish a piece of fish back to his plate.

It was Akuha's words, he realized. He didn't like what he heard. No matter what she thought of humans, he couldn't deny there was some truth to what she said. Tsukune knew of various times throughout history where monsters had been attacked by humans, exiled or murdered – though before entering Youkai Academy he had dismissed them as silly myths and folktales. Incidents like the Salem Witch Trials, the mass hysteria and hunts for vampires in Eastern Europe. Or further back, to medieval knights slaying trolls, dragons, anything for sport; or further still to the ancient world, where, as Nekonome-sensei had told them, the gorgon Medusa, pregnant at the time, was meaninglessly murdered in service of a King whose greed desired her head.

None of these, or many of the other occurrences, made Tsukune's species look good. Yes, sometimes monsters had done horrible things to humans, abducting children, terrorizing villages, and they deserved whatever just punishment had been meted them, but he couldn't take much comfort in this. Each instance only served to remind him of the bloody and terrible histories between humans and ayashi, which he and Moka would have to work hard to transcend, if they wanted any chance of creating a new world of harmony between the two races.

The Matron spoke, finally, bringing him back to reality: "I hear what you're saying. However, before considering what's best for the world of ayashi, I must consider what is best for my own people, Miss Shuzen." She paused, pursing her lips pensively. "Well, I can't say I'm for or against you, anyway. The fate of the human world isn't my concern. Although I've heard they make quite sensual lovers, as you could probably tell me, dear." That was to Moka, who coughed loudly, her face flushed. A moment later, Salome's eyes turned to Tsukune, fixing him in their gaze. Silently, she rose from her seat, leathery wings suddenly rustling and unfurling from her back; with a flap, she ascended, floating smoothly over to where the boy sat, closely hovering by as she peered down at him, a curious look on her face. "What about you…Tsukune, was it? What do you have to say about this? You're a human, and here we are discussing the potential annihilation of your kind. What are your thoughts? I find it very curious that you're with this group in the first place."

So close to the voluptuous, exposed Queen, Tsukune nervously shifted his gaze away, blushing furiously. He could swear he heard a low chuckle come from Moka. "Um…umm…" he stammered, unable to form a sentence, desperate to look anywhere but at the pendulous breasts right before him.

"Ah, Lady Salome," Kahlua called out, pointing cautiously towards her proximity to Tsukune, "I think you're making him nervous."

"Oh?" The Matron cast a quick glance downwards, then back up at Tsukune. A slight grin creased her lips. "I'm sorry, are you uncomfortable, being so close to nudity?"

"N-no, that's not it…"

The Matron gave a soft sound of amusement, then backed away from the embarrassed boy, who promptly gulped down some cold water. Wheeling round, she stretched her wings further and began to ascend higher in the chamber. Upwards she drifted, quietly, until a few moments later she ceased her climb just below the ceiling, under the richly colored mural. Below, the group's attention was drawn to her, and to the picture of the graceful woman she fluttered beside, there at the trunk of the cedar.

"You're curious about my bare breast?" Her light voice reverberated within the chamber's high walls, down to her guests. She was addressing Tsukune. "This is the answer. Behold. The one you see now is our mother, Lilith. The first succubus, origin of all our kind, our guardian protectress. She watches over Yomotsu and all succubi everywhere, and we owe to her, among other things, many of our people's traditions." She gestured at her own form. "It is customary, for instance, for the Matron to go about thus exposed, and also to wear this cloak which is modeled after Lilith's own."

Darting his eyes between the two, Tsukune admitted their garments looked similar.

She continued: "I won't bore you with all the details, but the simple reasoning behind it is, the Matron's bosom is seen as symbol to succubi. A symbol of life, of nourishment and sustenance – the very gifts given by Lilith herself."

A muffled sound beside him startled Tsukune; he realized with some surprise that Moka was suppressing a snicker. _"Shh," _he whispered out the side of his mouth. _"Don't let her hear you."_

She nodded, putting a hand to her mouth to pass it off as a cough, her face appeared to have choked a little on her wine, and was clearly embarrassed by the crack in her reserve. Although, this just made her cuter in Tsukune's eyes.

Luckily, nobody seemed to hear them, and the Matron went on up above: "It's expected that the Matron, more than anyone, shows that she too nurtures and serves as mother to her city and her people. We hold Lilith in the highest regard as our progenitor. Although, many other ayashi also claim ancestry to her. I wonder if the same goes for you vampires? There is one race of fairies, in fact, who believe her to be the first of _their _kind, and among whom the name Lilith is extremely popular."

Moka and Tsukune tossed each other a knowing glance. If Salome caught it, she ignored them, instead letting her eyes rest with admiration and love on the mother of succubi. "But, well, we believe we have the rightful claim to her legacy, not them or anyone else. That is why her visage occupies this space up here, you see." She sighed, taking in a deep, calm breath before setting it free. "She watches over the center of our city, serving as a guide for our policies and laws; she is truly a major part of what makes this dome a special place."

"A part of?" Tsukune's question surprised even him; he guessed he must have been paying more attention than he thought, for he was interested in her explanation.

The Matron cast him an appreciative smile. "Curious, are you? Well then, just look behind Lilith here." With a hand she gestured at the painted cedar stretching across the ceiling. "It's this tree."

Akuha cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"The tree depicted here is representative of the one that lies right below our feet," replied the Matron. "I was just there before meeting you, actually, tending to it. The sacred tree, the heart of our city, which has protected Yomotsu since ancient times. Never withering, never losing a single leaf. According to our legends, Lilith herself was born under its boughs. And even today, many succubi choose to give birth under the shade of the leaves."

"I wonder, my lady," said Akuha, pushing her finished dishes away, "if this tree is anything like the thousand year frost tree of the yuki-onna."

Moka turned to her. "What do you mean, Akuha-neesan?"

"Hm? Didn't you guys see it when you visited the Snow Village?" The duo shook their heads. "It's the structure that protects the village of the yuki-onna by creating the massive barrier surrounding the land. It is revered by all who live there as the source of life itself." She paused, musing. "This sacred tree of Yomotsu does sound similar."

"Yes, you could say that. Many ayashi homelands have such vessels that gather spirit energy to provide protection. The sacred tree is ours." At that, Salome made her descent, gliding, almost slithering through the air, down to her guests. She eyed them cautiously, particularly Akuha. "Of course, it's heavily guarded, and the entrance is hidden. And, since I still do not know your full intentions, you'll forgive me if I don't go into any more detail on this."

"Absolutely, I understand." Akuha nodded amicably. "Don't worry, that's not why we've come."

"Yes, yes, you want our support and resources, I got it." The Matron fluttered back to her throne and, with a groan, settled back in. Silence took hold for a few moments while she sat, lips turned downward as she thought, before the inquisitive eyes of her audience. With a sigh, she addressed them again: "I'll be honest, Miss Shuzen. You are asking quite a lot from me. As I told you before, I still know very little about your organization, let alone what motivations or goals you might be keeping secret."

"I assure you, our intentions are noble, my lady." Akuha actually sounded sincere, thought Tsukune.

"Mm, well…as things stand, I can't say I'm inclined to accept your request. I can look at your proposals later, but I won't involve my people in something this potentially volatile so recklessly. I trust you understand."

Tsukune gulped. This couldn't be good. As sound as the Matron's reasoning was, he didn't expect this decision, any decision that didn't help Fairy Tale, to sit well with his captor. Before he could wonder too much, however, Kahlua chimed in, urgently: "Lady Salome, might it help persuade you to our cause to know Tsukune has the love of a succubus, and the approval of her family, at that?"

_Here we go. _Tsukune felt the tension at the table triggered by Kahlua activating their trump card. Himself.

"Come again?" Salome perked up at that, turning to Tsukune, her eyes questioning. "You are to enter a union with one of my daughters? Can this be true?" By the smile that slowly spread on her mouth, Tsukune could tell this was akin to receiving very good news for her.

What he didn't count on was Moka piping up, with unusual enthusiasm: "Oh yes, ma'am. One of our schoolmates, actually. She even introduced him to her mother, and they made all the arrangements. I expect the wedding to be quite soon, in fact." Catching Tsukune's slack jaw as he gaped at her, she winked. Clearly, she was enjoying this. As she had told him, she was perfectly aware of the others' crushes on him, and also his endearing naïveté on the subject. She was finding it amusing to tease him a little.

"Well now, that is lovely to hear. You will be joining our family soon then, young man?"

Finding himself at a loss, Tsukune glanced back and forth between Akuha and Moka; both affirmed him with a nod. "Y-yes, that's…correct," he stuttered, taken aback. Why would Moka toy with him like that? Maybe it just ran in the family, he guessed, lamenting.

"Wonderful! If that's the case, I suppose I could take it into account. No guarantees, though. Even for a future son of mine, I wouldn't just automatically enter such an alliance."

"That's fine." This time Akuha spoke. "Thank you for the consideration, and for the audience today." Standing up, she bowed with reverence, motioning for the others to imitate.

_Guess we're done here, _thought Tsukune, rising.

They exchanged formal farewells with the Matron, who summoned Yuki back over to lead them out into the city. Just before they could leave, however, Moka looked to Tsukune, nodding. He understood. It was time. He was turning to face their host once more, prepared to tell her just who this succubus was, but as it turned out, there was no need.

"One last thing," she spoke, clasping her thin fingers together. "Might I know the name of the young lady who will bring Tsukune Aono into our family?"

"Ahh, I believe it is Kurumu Kurono, my lady," replied Akuha.

Perhaps it was the chamber, its grand size, its high walls and ceiling; perhaps it was the vibrant echoes these aspects could send ringing throughout the hall, making even the faintest noises audible with a little concentration, like a mouse scurrying across the ground. Or maybe, Tsukune would have been able to hear soft breathing of his companions anyway, in the deathly silence that followed.

No one spoke a word. Akuha and Kahlua had paused mid-stride, while Tsukune and Moka stood locking eyes with their host. Eyes that with alarming speed lost the clear, warm radiance they had retained this whole time, replaced by a quickly building storm, clouds growing and darkening, then roaring thunder and flashes of terrible lightning.

"Kurono…" Her voice was a cold, icy hiss. "Ageha's daughter?"

"Yes," replied Akuha, her expression faltering as her eyes narrowed. "Why, is there a problem?"

"Do you really expect my favor when you freely admit your association with my…my…_sister?" _She spit out the word, disgustedly.

Moka and Tsukune gave a simultaneous gasp, sharing a thought:

_Sister?_

"Your sister?" Akuha echoed. "Ageha Kurono? I wasn't aware you two are related."

"Were!" The correction came sharp and biting. "Until she brought utter and complete shame onto our family, and was banished. It was a sheer miracle I was allowed to succeed in her place. Do you have idea the damage she did to our family's name?"

Suddenly swelling with anger of his own, Tsukune stepped forward on the cold marble and shot back: "Damage? You mean freeing an incubus from a life of slavery? That's harm?"

So quick was Tsukune's rising indignation, he had temporarily forgotten, as Moka now tried futilely to warn him, that they were not supposed to have been privy to Ageha's banishment. He realized a second too late; furtively sneaking a glance at Akuha, he felt his stomach tighten as she turned a demanding crimson glare his and Moka's way, looking up from examining something on her wrist, her mouth drawn tight. He was sure they would receive a royal chewing out later—he would probably be put back in his cell immediately—but it was too late to do anything about it. Akuha was smart, and had no doubt rapidly pieced together from Tsukune's outburst that he and Moka had known about Kurumu and Ageha's status, and had intended to use it as sabotage.

By now, the succubi in the surrounding alcoves and their partners, a couple of them incubi themselves, had ceased their activities at the sudden commotion. Their gazes swiveled to the center of the room, listening to the heated exchange.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand, boy," the Matron. "You think you can just come here and demand we change our institutions to meet your standards? Don't be so arrogant."

"It's not arrogance! It's wrong to force them to serve you! People shouldn't be treated that way."

"I'm not going to defend our customs to some brat. Who are you to judge? No!" She cut off his coming retort. "Now all of you, I want you out of my sight. Hurry, or I'll have you forcibly escorted out."

Before anyone could utter another word, Tsukune felt a steel grip tighten on his arm. Akuha yanked him after her with almost enough force, he feared, to pull the arm of out the socket. Kahlua and Moka were hot on their heels, shock and worry written on their faces.

"We're going," Akuha called back, her long coat fluttering in her wake. Aside from her farewell, she remained oddly silent.

Tsukune couldn't answer over the pain in his trapped arm and the defiance in his heart, but something he couldn't quite place nudged at him about her tone; ignoring Kahlua's appeal to wait, Akuha stormed out of the bottom hall, up the stairs, around the upper level brushing past flabbergasted visitors, all the while the Matron's ranting fury echoing along the walls.

_To be continued…_


	9. For Want of Composure, Pt 4

**For Want of Composure, Pt. 4**

At last they burst through the front doors, back into the sunlight. They kept moving, until eventually they had crossed several streets, clear and away from the Hall of Innocence, though the massive structure remained in their sights. It was then that Akuha threw Tsukune to the ground with an angry grunt. "Akuha-neesan, stop!" He could hear Moka's continued protests as she dashed to him, feet heavy on the path. Dropping down, she placed a worried hand on his shoulder, intending to help him up.

The elder girl didn't bat an eyelid. She did, however, turn briefly to her sides, as if searching for something; wide-eyed succubi stared back, muttering their confusion and astonishment to each other. "Speak," she commanded the boy at her feet, looking at him through strands of black that had fallen over her face, casting shadows about the pale surface. "I suspected you might plan something, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. And this is how you repay my trust?"

Chancing to raise his eyes a little, Tsukune looked at her, trying to gauge her wrath by her face. His own anger from earlier was gradually giving way to nervousness. Oddly, however, Akuha wasn't looking back at him; behind her, Kahlua observed the scene anxiously, her gaze darting back and forth between her two sisters; behind him, Moka's warm body sat protectively, the scent of her silver tresses providing him some comfort; and yet, Akuha seemed somewhat…unfocused, perhaps distant, her eyes darting to and fro as she addressed him. And her voice, it wasn't so full of rage as it had been a moment ago, but more level, with a hint of impatience behind it.

"Stop, it was my idea," Moka asserted coolly, locking blood-red eyes with her sister's own. She smirked, casually. "Sorry to disappoint you, Akuha-neesan, but I doubt you'll be getting support from the succubi after that. It actually worked out better than I thought, although even I didn't know Kurumu's mother was the Matron's sister."

That was right, thought Tsukune. He still couldn't believe there was a relation between the two. Even more shocking was the realization that, if this was true, then wouldn't that make Kurumu a sort of, well, princess?

But now was not the time to dwell on that interesting tidbit. Akuha had suddenly turned half her attention to them at her sister's unapologetic admission. A strange expression had taken hold in her eyes, not the previous impatience or irritation, no. One that made Tsukune's blood run cold. For he had never before seen such a blinding, seething fury in Akuha's gaze – a frightful look that made him think she was about to shriek and lash out and murder the next person who passed by. He primed his body to react to the impending explosion, but then, just as suddenly, the fire in her eyes was gone. No trace remained, indeed, she now looked so crestfallen Tsukune almost started to wonder if maybe he had been imagining things.

With a sigh, she said, her voice unusually childlike, almost unsettling in its sincerity: "It's ok, Moka. I know you didn't mean to lie to me when you told us we could use him. You would never do that on your own. It was Tsukune, wasn't it? He made you betray me, didn't he? Come on, you can tell me the truth."

The younger girl blinked. "You're…you're not serious, are you? I hope you haven't forgotten that I'm against what you and Fairy Tale are trying to do, Akuha-neesan."

Another sigh, eyes going back to scanning the surroundings, occasionally flitting down to her wrist for a split second. "No, I guess I haven't. No wonder he was able to get you to go along with him."

Tsukune felt a stab of curiosity. What was going on? Akuha's behavior was extremely unusual just now. Even after Moka told her this whole scheme was her intention, she was apparently refusing to believe it wasn't Tsukune's own doing. Then there was her bizarre tone, and that brief flash of hatred in her eyes. Something seemed off. And, more immediately, what exactly was she looking at? He tried to follow her stare himself, but could see nothing of interest.

"Akuha," Kahlua interrupted, "forgive me, but why did you leave? Lady Salome may have been angry but I think we could have tried to calm her down and change her mind. You just left the second she said to, without any sort of attempt to persuade her."

"Never mind that," Akuha said absently, her tone more level. "What's done is…" A pause, as she still threw distracted glances down and across the block, then: "…done." Under her breath, she muttered, "And it should be just about time…"

So low was her voice that Tsukune barely managed to catch what she'd said. But catch them he did, and knew Moka with her superior senses must have, as well. Just what was occupying Akuha's attention so much? After all, himself, Kahlua, Moka, they were all there. No one was missing, so was she expecting—

_Wait._

No, that wasn't right. The four of them were all there, true, but… All of a sudden it felt like they were, in fact, missing someone. Why he felt this way Tsukune had no idea, since he couldn't even think of who he might know that could be absent.

He was not left with much time to wonder, however, for a second later Akuha gave a pleased cry as she apparently triumphed in her bewildering search. Assisted by Moka to his feet, Tsukune turned in the same direction. And just like that, the question was answered. Moving at a hurried pace, two dark figures approached, gliding like shadows under the underground sun. They noiselessly crossed the remaining street between them—for some reason, none of the other people they suspiciously darted past seemed to even acknowledge their existence—and now Tsukune could identify the familiar newcomers.

It was the two Fairy Tale officers who had come with them to Yomotsu, and had accompanied them to the Matron earlier that day. The dull gold buttons running down their pitch black uniforms glinted brightly as they caught the sun.

_That's right. But then, I don't remember seeing them during the meeting. Where have they been?_

"Right on schedule!" Akuha chirped happily. The pair stopped before her, bowing calmly, no shudders or labored breaths as one might expect from someone who had been running as fast as they. The eldest Shuzen glanced between them expectantly. "Well, is it done?"

The one on the left nodded. A tall man, his head shaved, a face hardened with several faint scars and heavy-lidded eyes; a tattoo of a pale lightning bolt cut across his cheek. "Yes, captain. We were able to disappear surprisingly easy once we were inside. It's almost remarkable how lax that place's security is, given that it's the Matron who resides there."

"…And did you deliver the capsules?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hold on." Tsukune's interruption stalled the officer, who fell silent with disciplined coolness. "Capsules? What are they talking about?"

His question was met with a glance from Akuha. "Wait," she said, and signaled the officer again. "You used all of them, correct?"

The other one spoke this time, a younger man, probably not much older than the two Youkai Academy students there; his black hair clung like a wet mop to his scalp, indicating an overabundance of gel, and he appeared to be suppressing a cocky sort of grin under his professional veneer. "You bet we did! Ow! Sorry. You bet we did, cap'n." He amended his statement at a sharp elbow in the arm from his partner, over his lack of the proper decorum due his superior. "I'd say give it 'bout a day or so, and those babies'll sprout up for all to see." He gave a little chuckle, rubbing his shoulder, the other man remaining silent and, once more, motionless. "That's why I think we should hightail it out of here pronto."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Akuha agreed. "Well done, you two!" Then, whirling around to her three companions, she beamed. Tsukune wasn't sure he had ever seen her so happy before; this couldn't be good, he thought, with something like dread creeping into his stomach. "Mission success, everybody! For a bit there with Salome I was getting a tad nervous about whether these guys might be caught while we were inside, but it looks like things worked out. Well, time to go back to the ship!"

Her proclamation was met with blank stares. No one spoke, until at last Moka ventured: "A-Akuha-neesan? Success? Did we miss something? Last I remember the Matron wants nothing to do with Fairy Tale." She then pointed at the two agents. "And where were they? Just what the hell did you have them do?"

"I'm not sure I understand either," Kahlua confessed, eyeing her big sister with trepidation. "Akuha, what are you hiding?"

Akuha gave them an apologetic smile. "Oh, you girls, I'm sorry I didn't tell you—well, I couldn't tell you, Moka, you understand—but Kahlua, honestly it just didn't occur to me."

"What didn't occur to you?" Tsukune's voice rang out clearly.

"Aiyaa~ Should I tell you? Well, I am in a good mood now, and it's not like there's anything you can do about it. You see," she gestured at the two officers, "these boys here just carried out a little task I'd given them. Do you remember what Salome said before, when she talked about the sacred tree of Yomotsu?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Remember how she said it was located right under our feet, at the very heart of the city?"

Something flashed in Tsukune's mind then. A memory, something he had heard from…Kahlua? What was it? She had told them aboard the airship…

Akuha continued. "I had these two deliver a little something there, that's all."

And then it came to him. The thousand year frost tree. Kahlua had told them of Fairy Tale's activities, that they had attached strange, ayashi eggs to the base of the tree, indeed throughout Japan itself. He blanched. It couldn't be.

Moka must have recalled this too, for she suddenly blurted out: "It wasn't those eggs?"

"Ah?" The black-maned vampire's eyebrow went up. "How do you know about the eggs?" Then, realizing the only way: "Aiya, Kahlua. So I guess Fairy Tale having our family's support wasn't the only thing you told them?"

"I didn't say much," Kahlua defended herself. "Besides, Kokoa and that witch already knew, so I figured there was no harm." She smiled weakly, nervously fiddling with her earring.

"Well, it's no matter. Anyway, the thing is, we knew the sacred tree here was located under the central dome, but we needed a way to get our people inside."

"Inside?" Tsukune pieced it together, growing steadily horrified. "But we had the…meeting inside…"

The smirk that graced Akuha's mouth didn't help. "Yes we did. We had to have some excuse to get in, right?"

"Then, you're saying this whole thing was all part of your damn plan? You had us meet the Matron so you could attach those eggs to tree? But…but…" Tsukune's head was swimming with frantic thoughts; he could sense Moka's growing anger, as well. "That doesn't even make sense! Why go so far as to ask the Matron for an audience when you didn't even care what her answer was? It's no wonder you were willing to risk everything on such a flimsy plan, thinking that Kurumu and her mom liking me would help you! And how did your men go by unseen, even if they were inside?"

"So many questions today, dear Tsukune," Akuha laughed. "Well, like I said, I'm in a good mood, so I'll answer." Reaching up to fiddle with one of the white strands of her hair, she exhaled deeply. Behind her, the two agents stood, dark and still as stones. "Don't misunderstand. I would've had no problem with Yomotsu supporting us. The more the merrier, right? But, remember when I told Salome we were still a young organization without enough resources? Yeah, I lied." She laughed at the boy's perplexity. "We have all we need, thanks to these eggs. Weapons, soldiers, supplies, all that stuff I mentioned, we don't need more of those, thanks to our little eggs there. Well, I suppose the divisions who have their own plans might want them, but, oh well." Another laugh. "Of course if she had offered, I wouldn't have turned those things down, but you saw to it that that wouldn't happen." Her voice didn't even contain a hint of anger as she said this. "As for these guys, they're Invisible Men, and can make themselves visible or invisible to whoever they please. No one would've seen them sneaking along the passageways, looking for the sacred tree. Just as no one on the street saw them running past just now, except for us."

"Akuha." With courage he later was surprised didn't get him violently murdered, Tsukune took a few sudden strides forward and seized the girl by the collar. He peered into her eyes, crimson and deep, far deeper than he would expect of someone her age. "What the hell do you want? What is going to hatch from those eggs? Tell me!"

The two officers quickly made to act, but Akuha halted them with a raised hand. With dexterous ease, she loosened Tsukune's grasp and slinked back like a slippery eel, smoothing out her coat. "Sorry, that's not for you to know." Turning her back to him, she started ambling lazily down the walk, her two lackeys trailing her. Tsukune, however, was not letting this go.

"Akuha!" He shouted, hands balled into clenching fists at his sides. A few passing succubi glanced briefly in their direction at the noise, but he ignored them. "Tell us what you're planning."

Whether it was to further fan the flames of his anger or not, Akuha paused tossed an irritatingly bored look over her shoulder. "What do you mean? You already know Fairy Tale's plan. We simply want to destroy the human world." Tsukune made to protest, but she wasn't done. "Yomotsu was our last target, the last batch of the eggs. It's only a matter of time until they siphon off all the spirit energy the tree gives off. And then…" She trailed off, flicking an expressive glance at Moka, who herself now remembered something the Matron had said earlier.

"Isn't that energy used to create the barrier around the city?"

"Energy we need, Moka." Akuha's tone took on the usual sweetness and care it did whenever she addressed her sister.

Tsukune, however, was by this point boiling with fury. "Then what? You'll just leave them vulnerable like that? Are you planning to attack them? How does killing innocent succubi fit in with your plan, Akuha?" When she didn't respond, he turned heel with cutting sharpness and, breaking out into a run, yelled: "There's no way I'll let that happen!"

"Tsukune!" Moka's shout rang on deaf ears, the boy flying forward with a singular thought.

He had to warn them.

He had to rush back to the Matron's audience chamber, incensed as she likely still was, and tell her and the whole city what Fairy Tale was doing. On he ran, brushing past other pedestrians, speeding by shops with glass windows, buildings with vines and leaves running up their sides from cracks in the ground. Even over the loud clomps of his shoes on the pavement, he could still hear, hot on his trail,

Fast as he was going, he could still hear over the loud clomps of his shoes on the pavement, someone hot on his trail. Akuha, Moka, whoever it was, he didn't have time to stop. Crossing the last street amid the annoyed shouts of those he blazed by, he found himself returned to outer plaza of the central dome, huffing, his heart pounding in his chest. There they were. The doors were in sight, and the guards that flanked them, getting closer as he approached, closer…closer…

A hand gently found its way to his wrist. At the same time, another took a light hold of the shoulder on the same arm. Before he could even register what was happening, Tsukune was careening through the air, as if the ground had been stripped from under him. Panic only registered in his mind the second before he crashed back down to earth. He landed on his side with a pained shout, tumbling over himself until he came to a stop, face down and covered in the newborn bruises and scrapes he could feel on his arms and legs and face. The sound of rushing feet reached his ears; he hoped it was the surrounding succubi coming to help, but that hope died as he was suddenly yanked to his feet by his arm, which was twisted behind his back with unforgiving force. The silky whisper that caressed the shell of his ear alerted him to the identity of his follower.

"Wherever do you think you're going, little Tsukune?"

He winced, more from the pain than her reintroduction of that demeaning moniker. "Let go, Akuha," he growled. "If you want to stop me from warning them, you'll have to kill me first." The dizziness from his fall left a haze in front of Tsukune's eyes, but he could still make out several onlookers standing nearby, taking in the scene with hushed gasps and murmurs. Turning his head to his captor, he was unnerved to see a wildness in her eyes and a heated blush that had warmed her cheeks; her hair was all in a rough mess from chasing after him, and stray strands clung damply to her smooth skin. From this close distance, he could smell her subtle layers of perfume battling with the scent of sweat caused by her exertion, anxious to burst forth. Dabbing at her pink lips with her tongue, she moistened them further as she held him in her clutches. Despite his predicament, Tsukune couldn't ignore how seductive she looked.

Her grip, unfortunately, was not as favorable as her countenance. "It's too late, there is nothing you can do." Something in her voice made Tsukune give an inward shudder. He didn't want to consider it too hard, but she almost sounded…turned on? "Come now, be a good boy and follow me back to the ship. I promise if you do, I might even decide not to throw you back in the brig, even though you richly deserve it for coming up with that little betrayal back there."

"I didn't—forget it." Again he wondered at the accusation; had Akuha merely not heard her sister admit to being the mastermind? That didn't seem right. But then, what was it?

Well, in any case Tsukune couldn't focus on it now, preoccupied as he was. Gathering up his strength, he strained to break free of his grip, but the leverage Akuha had on his arm assured that would not happen. Baring his teeth, he turned to her again. "If you don't let me go right now, I'll tell all these people what you're doing!"

The whisper in his ear stayed playful, yet was tinged with a sudden lethality. "Ohh, I wouldn't do that. I doubt they'd believe you anyway, but then if they did, they would come after us." Then, her voice lowering even more to a deadly purr: "And then I'd have to kill them all to get out of here. You know I could. Would you want that on your conscience?" Saying that, in an uncommon lack of self-control, Akuha let her tongue ease forth past deadly white fangs and trail a small, warm path along her captive's ear, while simultaneously pressing her body even closer to his, her breasts meeting his muscled back, hardened by exhausting training sessions with Moka. She giggled. "Aiya, I think all the excitement today has got me a little bothered."

Tsukune immediately scolded whatever sick part of himself was sharing that sentiment, not helped at all by the close contact between them. He was about to retort defiantly, but a quick yelp from the older girl cut him off. "Ah! What am I saying?" She hurriedly backed up an inch, reapplying tight pressure to the grip on his arm which she had allowed to go slightly slack. "No, no, I have to control that little urge. Moka wouldn't like it if I were to just take you here on the street in front of all these people." That part at least, Tsukune in his present state was whole-heartedly thankful for; he did not share Akuha's apparent disregard for an audience during…such activities.

Taking sudden notice of the surrounding succubi staring at them, Akuha called out: "Ah, sorry about that, everybody! This guy just tried to rob me, but I've my stuff back. Oh! Oh no that's ok! No need to call the police, thank you. I'll bring him to the station myself. Alright, let's go, buddy, you're coming with me! I'll teach you to go against me."

And with a sharp tug, Akuha turned and started marching off, dragging Tsukune behind her by the wrist, several perplexed women—unaware of the double meaning in the girl's words—staring at their retreating backs. For his part, Tsukune sighed and slumped with resignation. His hands really were tied, as Akuha had pointed out to him. If he called for help, there would be a whole host of bloodied corpses littering the streets. He couldn't allow all those innocents to die from his hasty actions. Today, he would be forced to suffer this defeat, but together with Moka, he would quickly have to concoct another scheme to strike at Fairy Tale, including how to remove these mysterious eggs from the various monster homelands where they had been placed. Although, this might be much easier said than done, since according to Akuha, eggs had now been placed in all their intended locations. God knew how many places were infested.

Such were the thoughts racing through his head as Akuha led him back to the others: apparently none of them had followed her in the chase. As they neared what he recognized as the spot he had left, however, he caught glimpse of something dead ahead. At that very spot, a small huddle of succubi was gathered in circle, seemingly looking down at something in their midst.

"What's this?" He heard Akuha wonder aloud.

She approached, cautiously, with Tsukune in tow, not wanting to encounter a crime scene or anything like that. But then, why would there be such a thing here? This was definitely the spot she had left her sisters and subordinates, wasn't it?

They reached the outer edge of the crowd. Unwilling to risk asking anyone to move aside, Akuha lifted herself on her tiptoes, peering over the few heads between her and the spot of interest.

What she saw was enough to make Tsukune cringe at the sudden pressure she applied to his wrist, accompanied by a soft gasp from the black-haired vampire. Unnerved by her outburst, and the crowd, at the spot where Moka had been, he quickly made to look for himself, craning his neck over the people until it came into view.

It took him only a second to recognize the black, disheveled shapes on the ground as the sprawled bodies of the two Fairy Tale members. They lay there on their backs, allowing Tsukune to see the fierce bruises that had been left on their faces and the tears in their clothes, revealing more assaulted and wounded bits of skin. Something had beaten these men bloody.

The thing that stood out the most to Tsukune, however, making his heart sink in terror, was what wasn't even there before his eyes.

The two agents were alone.

Moka and Kahlua were nowhere to be seen.

_To be continued…_


	10. For Want of the Life, Pt 1

**For Want of the Life, Pt. 1**

"Nnn…nggh…"

"Ah, you're awake!"

The fog around her head slowly lifting, Moka raised her head – before her were murky images of what appeared to be a small room with several computer terminals and miniscule, extremely dark windows; dim, blue lighting overhead was the only reason she was able to make out these features as well as her sole companion, a few paces away.

"Kahlua…? What… Where are we? What's going on?"

Thinking, then, to move, Moka's irritation was evoked at the discovery of her bound limbs, strapped to this less than ideally comfortable table. Try as she might, there was no breaking free; she realized the bonds were probably of the same strength-sapping type Akuha had used to bind her to the bed during…_that_ night. Well, in any case, at least this time she was fully dressed. That was something, she thought grimly.

_Small thanks for small favors…_

Her big sister came into clearer view as she took small, almost penitent steps forward. "I'm sorry about this, Moka. Really, I am. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't disobey my orders."

"Orders? What orders? Why did you bring me here?"

Sad eyes gazed upon her. "It's—well, I don't know everything myself, but I was told to get you away from Akuha and back here as soon as possible."

"Away from…huh?" Indignation began to well up inside her. Twice now, recently, she had woken to find herself in chains, a prisoner. Such humiliation was unacceptable. She narrowed her still cloudy eyes. "What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is being in Yomotsu, then Akuha-neesan said…the real purpose…and then, Tsukune…" She paused, trying to reassemble the pieces. Truthfully, she did not enjoy the times she had to navigate her memory so deeply. Always it gave her the strangest, yet most fleeting of feelings, as if she were scrambling along a dense jungle road, under cover of night and canopy, sensing without hearing or seeing that to her sides, lurking in the darkness off the beaten path, unknown beasts more terrible than any she'd ever encountered watched her every move. Every second that passed, she could almost feel their terrible stares, sense their tensing muscles, just within tangled vines and trees, as if they were priming to strike at any pulse-pounding moment.

Then, just like that, the sensation would end, and the desired memory would come to her with pleasant familiarity, leaving the darkness behind her for the time being. Although, there wasn't much pleasant about this one. "Tsukune ran off, didn't he," she said curtly. "That's all I know. So, then what happened? Why am I here?"

A nervous laugh was her first answer. "Um, you see, I kind of had to…well, knock you out—"

That information certainly woke Moka completely. "You _what_?" Thinking about it, she scoffed. "Nonsense! It hasn't been that long since our last battle, and even then you couldn't take me down so easily, Kahlua."

Giving her little sister a wistful smile, Kahlua raised her hand to tap at the bare skin around her neck. "Pressure points, Moka. They're quite useful in public situations, when you need to avoid attracting attention."

"Pressure points?"

"Oh? Hasn't anyone taught you? I'm surprised. I could tell you were an experienced fighter from our last encounter, but for you to have gained all that skill without being taught where exactly to strike on someone's body to incapacitate them…"

Moka frowned at her words. Kahlua had only seen her in action once, recently, so she probably wouldn't realize this, but upon consideration, Moka had to admit that her fighting style—which more often than not consisted of bold, powerful kicks that usually ended a battle quickly—was perhaps…lacking in subtle finesse, something no doubt required by techniques utilizing specific points on one's body.

Mulling it over sullenly, she only caught the end of what Kahlua was saying; the blonde vampiress hadn't stopped talking. "…met me at the cave-mouth outside the city, and here we are. I felt so bad, but I had no choice." Her eyes started to glitter as she rambled. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Try to understand. This wasn't easy for me. There were so many times where I tried to just get it done with, but I couldn't follow through." She hiccupped, lightly, as the tears threatened to spill.

Moka let her ramble for a minute longer, avoiding her sister's dampened eyes. "Kahlua," she soon stopped her, "what about Tsukune? Where is he?"

"Ah, y-yes." Biting her lip, Kahlua suddenly gave a few half turns over her shoulder, wiping her eyes, looking for brief instances at the terminals behind her as if trying to decide something. Seemingly resigning herself, she finally turned, heavily, and paced over to the system by the opposite wall. Hidden from Moka's view, her fingers began to dance over the keyboard—from the sound of it, with more speed and accuracy than Moka would have expected from such a klutz as her sister. She continued, delicately, while she typed: "I would guess he and Akuha are back aboard the ship by now, and if I know her, she's none too pleased with what I've done. Hopefully he has the sense to stay clear of her." A pause, then, her tone lowering in volume, whether from distraction or compassion: "All tied up as you are, and you still worry about that boy. You really do like him, huh?" Greeted with a silent stare from her sister, she paused in her work, turning back to Moka and letting out a deep, mournful sigh as she met the girl's red eyes. "And here I…I did…that…well, again, you know…"

Though it was a sincere apology, the reminder of that unpleasant incident pricked at Moka's nerves nonetheless, remodeling her blank stare into a hard glower. This wasn't the time for that memory. "Yeah, I know," she said, her voice low, almost a growl. "But I'm even less thrilled now that you left him alone with Akuha-neesan. How could you do something so reckless? You know what she thinks of him, of all humans. Without me to protect him, she'll rip him to shreds the second he gives her an excuse, or maybe even before then! You're delusional if you think I'll stay here while that happens."

Reaching up to tap her chin absently, Kahlua paused, strolling over to a chair by one of the small, opaque windows. She took a seat, smoothing her dress out beneath her, then mused: "Ah, I wonder about that…" She spoke more to herself, as if recollecting something of interest. "Maybe he's not in as much danger as we think…"

She trailed off, quietly, but Moka hadn't missed her mutterings. Her curiosity was piqued; still, it couldn't overthrow her mind's primary focus on Tsukune's well-being. She would not allow it. Narrowing her eyes further, she spoke clearly, with assertive command: "I don't care. Release me, Kahlua, now. If you don't, know that your place will be on the ground beneath my foot. Don't make me tell you again."

A stern look appeared in Kahlua's normally soft eyes; she met Moka's glare unflinchingly. "I'm sorry, but that's not in the cards right now, Moka. I was told to bring you here, and for now, as far as I know, here you will stay."

"_Here I will stay?" _Moka's echo was an incredulous scoff. "Come on, let me out of these chains, and see how long you say that!"

Kahlua sighed, fatigued. "Moka…please don't make this more difficult than it has to be."

"MORE difficult?" She snorted contemptuously. "Well, I'm terribly sorry kidnapping me was such an inconvenience for you, Kahlua! That's really the sort of thing that should be simple and hassle-free, isn't it?" Yanking at her bonds, she was frustrated yet again by failure. Kahlua, for her part, didn't even budge an inch at Moka's struggling – her confidence in the chains to keep the girl secure was unshakable. Not that this improved Moka's mood any. Pausing in her efforts, she said, her tone menacing: "I don't plan on staying here, whether you intend it or not. Wherever 'here' is…you never told me, by the way. Just where the hell did you take me?"

"Oh, Kahlua, you haven't even informed our guest as to her new residence? That won't do."

The serene voice that sounded calmly through the small room alerted the girls that they had company. Before Moka's eyes, the door had opened, giving way to three entrants. Front and center was a man she instantly swore looked familiar, though his identity eluded her. He was dressed in a heavy leather coat, a white buttoned shirt visible beneath; greasy strands of dark hair were flung down wildly over his face, similar in a way to Akuha, noted Moka. Disgust crept into her gut upon recognition: this was that man, Miyabi Fujisaki, the one who had nearly caused Mizore to take her own life out of grief before coming with an issue of ceasefire to the rampaging Kahlua, removing her from the battle moments before she slaughtered her own sister and her friends. But if he was here, thought Moka, did that mean she had been taken to Kahlua's division headquarters?

Even if that were the case, it didn't explain who the two men to either side of Miyabi were. On his right, a bald, short, dark-skinned man with small, ill-defined features, in a well-pressed business suit and tie; on his left, a tall, stringy fellow of clearly advanced years, his face long like a horse, his height diminished only a little by hunched shoulders upon which were draped the ends of long, bone white hair. The bald man wore a blank expression on his face as he looked dead ahead, betraying nothing of his intentions or mood; the elder one, however, had an air of seediness about him, the look of a desperate schemer whose allegiances could change at the drop of a hat—or a coin, possibly. As for Miyabi, his mouth merely hovered somewhere between a flat stare and a hyenine grin. Already Moka was sickened by his presence, even more so than by Long-face.

Kahlua rose, wheeled gracefully round, and gave a small bow to her superior. "Welcome back, sir," she said, sparing a respectful nod to his companions. "As you can see, I've brought Moka here, just as you asked."

"Yes, well done," Miyabi commended her, striding past her lazily to greet Moka with a courteous bow. As he passed, the silver-haired girl took pause at the way he lightly brushed against her sister's bare arm; Kahlua's body stiffened faintly at the contact, but she said nothing. "Welcome, Miss Akashiya, to our humble little base. I am Miyabi Fujisaki, as you may already know, current acting captain of Fairy Tale's Second Subdivision. No doubt you have questions, so—"

"Where is this place?" Moka repeated vexedly, grinding her teeth together.

Her interruption was met by an almost imperceptible widening of the man's smile – Moka cursed her inability to break free, to wipe that slimy, smug look off his face. She didn't know much about him, but she didn't need to. She knew he was with Fairy Tale, knew he had hurt Mizore, and now had ordered her most recent abduction. He was an enemy, without a doubt.

He spoke, his tone level: "As I said, this is our base of operations. Well, one of them, to be exact. You've been with us a couple of days, since your sister brought you from Yomotsu – you were unconscious only at first, but we felt it would be best to keep you out until we'd put sufficient distance between us and Akuha. As to where we are specifically, I suppose there is no harm in telling you that. We are now…ah, actually, what's our specific location at the moment, again?" This to the bald, well-dressed man behind him.

"Few hundred kilometers off Vietnam, last I checked," came the deep, gravelly reply. "About four hundred meters down."

Moka's growing fury at being bound and apparently drugged was briefly interrupted by surprise, her brows arching at the information. Her eyes drifted once more to the tiny windows occupying the other wall, and suddenly it was clear – initially she had been confused by the darkness of the glass, not even a speck of light spilling through to join the artificial brightness in the room; now it made sense.

Miyabi thanked the other man then turned back to their captive. "It's as he says. We are currently drifting along, deep beneath the waves of the South China Sea. It's quite far from home, wouldn't you say? Add the fact that we're mobile, and you can see why I don't mind giving you this information." At that, he looked Moka squarely in the eye, beneath brows with nary a wrinkle of stress or care; he held her gaze fast, his own eyes cool, passionless, and although Moka returned it with ferocity, she thought she could sense the softest whisper of something dangerous lurking behind this man's stare. He went on: "Whether you were planning some sort of escape attempt, or alerting Akuha to your location, it doesn't matter. You are completely out of her reach – I can assure you that for her the sky is, literally, the limit. She has no means of reaching us down here."

Moka decided not to tell him she wouldn't even want Akuha to find her – well, if only Tsukune weren't with her, to be more accurate, and if only she herself wasn't at the mercy of this person who had already wormed his way under her skin. And, giving her a sudden flood of fresh contempt, onto it – stretching out his hand as he explained things, Miyabi nonchalantly took a few light strands of her hair between his fingers, letting them slide through the digits like water. His knuckles brushed against a cheek, but dropped promptly back to his side as Moka angrily jerked her head from his touch. Her tresses slipped back beside her. Behind Miyabi, she could see Kahlua standing still as stone, eyes on the ground before her. The other two men were likewise motionless, their attention seemingly not even on the scene before them, but with their own thoughts.

"Get your paws off me," she had snarled and violently pulled away. There was silence for a moment, until at length she said: "I remember you. Tsukune told me you're the one who put Mizore through all that suffering."

"Ah, not that again? What a troublesome girl she is, to be exaggerating what I did to her. She should be thankful I didn't do more. Technically, she was given to me as a gift, to do whatever I pleased with."

"You bastard…"

Miyabi ignored the insult from the girl staring daggers at him, waving it aside dismissively. "Let's let bygones be bygones, Miss Moka. We have great expectations for you. Big things in store. The next few days will be pretty dull, since we still need to wait for those last eggs Akuha planted to grow. But once we get started, you'll be quite the busy girl."

"What? _Really?_" Moka practically spat out her incredulity. "Surely Kahlua told you I wouldn't even cooperate with Akuha-neesan for Fairy Tale's benefit. What makes you think I would change my stance for _you?" _

As Miyabi made to reply, he was cut off by one of the other men speaking up, leaving his mouth hanging ajar. It was Long-face. "Oho, I think you misunderstand, girl. Your cooperation isn't actually required in this case. Your mere presence is sufficient, and we have it. As long as you remain with us, everything will go smoothly." His high-pitched tone contained an eerie, childlike eagerness that rattled even Moka's steel nerves. Nevertheless, she didn't betray any disturbance in her expression, keeping hate-filled eyes fixed on her captors. But the man wasn't finished. "And be warned, if you try and make trouble, we'll—! We'll—!"

He hesitated, fist raised exuberantly, trying to think of something horrible enough with which to threaten Moka. The man in shades at his side offered assistance, his voice low and ominous. "We could always kill those friends of hers, from that little school club." Catching Moka's startled attention, he nodded. "Yes, we know about them, and locating them would be a pretty simple matter, if you try anything."

Ordinarily, such a threat against her friends would result in Moka delivering a fatal beatdown. In her present condition, however, chained down in some enemy base and as a result, helpless to protect them (as was her self-assumed duty as the strongest of their group), a threat against the Newspaper Club struck real fear in her heart. She didn't doubt that with Fairy Tale's resources, finding and assassinating Kurumu, Mizore, and the others would be all too easy. Tsukune may have been safe with Akuha, she thought—well, comparatively—but her other friends were alone and unsuspecting. The gnawing realization grew that she was completely unable to help them. To help anyone, really, given present circumstances. Even herself.

Growing desperate, she cast a fervent glance at Kahlua, as if hoping for some sort of help. Her sister, however, remained silent, standing there with eyes on the floor, maintaining a quiet dignity.

It was Miyabi who, ironically, put this particular fear to rest. With an alleviating chuckle, he said: "Come now, fellas, there's no need for that. Forgive them, Miss Moka. These are my associates, I forgot to mention, both leaders of other subdivisions within Fairy Tale. Allow me to introduce Lester Reilly, and Volga Lagunov, captains of division five and seven," he gestured to the bald, dark-skinned man and the hunched, wiry elder, respectively. "We have no intention of going after your friends. They—well, we, rather—are just a bit excited about our dreams finally becoming reality."

"And what dreams are those?" Moka demanded.

He didn't respond right away. Leaving the girl with baited breath, he turned his back to her, signaling to his companions with a nod that it was time to leave their 'guest' alone. Wordlessly, the two retreated through the open doorway, out of Moka's sight. But Miyabi remained, and from the sliver of his face still visible, she thought he looked like he thinking something over. But that distant expression quickly vanished as he answered: "Let's just say we're looking to move up on the food chain a little." He paused, and then, to Kahlua: "Speaking of, make sure your sister gets her meals brought on time. She is our honored guest, after all. Come, go see it arranged. I have another matter to attend to." Then, summoning the blonde vampiress to his side, he casually placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her out of the room.

Alone, Moka heard nothing but the silence around her and the faint, warm humming of the engines beyond the walls; the bed to which she was bound stood motionless, yet she could feel the soft vibrations as the sub coasted steadily along through the depths.

A disgruntled sigh bursting from her lips, the girl tossed her head back upon the unexpectedly soft pillow beneath her. For the second time now in recent memory, she had been taken captive and was at the mercy of yet another Fairy Tale officer. And it was that Miyabi, to boot. She cursed her misfortune – why did it have to be that bastard? She had thought it bad enough when she woke in Akuha's clutches, but even that was preferable to being a prisoner here. Even though she had only met him once before, Miyabi gave her a bad feeling. With what he'd done to Mizore, the way he'd grasped her hair just now. And what the hell was up with the way he'd been touching Kahlua?

Whatever else she might not know about this guy, she was certain she did not like him. What did he want from her? _And how do I get out of here? _She gave an experimental tug of her arm, but it was no use – the chain had done its job in sapping her power.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on some deep breathing to quell the frustration in her heart. A yawn came to her, unbidden; strange, since she had apparently been out like a light for several days. Although, during none of that time could she remember having a single dream. In fact, it had been more than a few days since she had even heard a whisper out of her other half. Indeed, as she checked again now, concentrating on probing the inner depths of her consciousness, Omote was nowhere to be found.

There was no cause to panic, though: Moka could still sense the pinkette's presence somewhere within her soul. Her softer half was definitely alive, but…she'd be damned if she knew where to find her. There were no hints to where she might be hiding, no trace of a trail. The rosary around her neck remained silent.

Another yawn came to her, catching her by surprise again. Perhaps, she mused, because she was so used to spending the bulk of her time resting inside the rosary, having been the active half nonstop as of late was leaving her feeling drained. Not only drained, however: she felt different in a way she couldn't quite identify, which was also odd, since, in a way, it was a familiar feeling. Almost like a dry sponge that had been left out on a table for days, having long since lost its moisture and hardened into a solid brick. What was more, the scratching, gnawing sensation she had felt in the back of her mind recently had gone mute, leaving Inner Moka truly alone with undisturbed thoughts. Anyone else, she thought ruefully, might have been grateful for the sudden lack of chaos whirling around in their minds, whether voices or subconscious proddings: for her, however, this internal quietude was first and foremost a reminder of her absent other half. Her absent…best friend.

_That Omote…where could she be?_

She frowned, mentally slapping herself awake in response to her increasing drowsiness. Whatever the case was with Omote, it would have to wait for another time – another time such as once she had escaped free and clear of Fairy Tale's grasp, the thing which now required her undivided attention. It wouldn't be a simple feat, she knew. Not only was she bound by these debilitating chains, but should she somehow manage to break loose, she was still in a mobile Fairy Tale base, likely crawling with an infestation of guards and officers, countless fathoms beneath the crushing dark sea. With a grim look crossing her features, she sighed once more.

_This could be a problem._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_This is a problem, alright…_

Blinking the wet away from his eyelashes, Tsukune stared straight into the rust-stained mirror before him. Dark eyes rimmed with a lack of decent sleep peered back, slightly moist from the water he had splashed across his face. Staring at his reflection indifferently for a few moments, he then walked over and did a haphazard job of drying his hands on a small towel before exiting the restroom.

This was a big problem, indeed, he thought again as he walked down the corridor, passing a few Fairy Talers here and there, some occupied with their own business, some staring at him with expressions of disinterest or disgust. He gave them little acknowledgement – he had other concerns. To his growing frustration, he was fast running out of options. It wasn't ten minutes ago that he had been up on the bridge, shouting desperately at the pilot to take the ship and immediately begin scouring the countryside for Moka. The pilot, though surprisingly sympathetic, had reminded Tsukune that he was the last person there to give orders, and that they would remain in their current location until he received express command from his captain.

Of course, said captain was, at the moment…somewhat unapproachable, to say the least. Tsukune had tried gaining access to her on a couple of occasions recently, only to be met with furious shouts from inside her chambers and barked orders to keep everyone out, upon which he would be escorted from the doors by the sentries posted beside them. The boy sighed, his head instantly aching at the thought of having to go back to Akuha and convince her to do something. Anything.

Then again, he knew her current absence was probably the only reason he had been allowed such a degree of freedom aboard the airship these past couple of days. Akuha must have been too preoccupied to even notice the human's existence, leaving him unfettered to roam the ship as he saw fit.

Not that there was much to do, he noted. And even if there was, he was just as focused on the same issue as she, leaving little room to care about the few entertainment options available for the crew. Passing one of these—a tiny arcade just opposite the swimming pool in which he'd tried and failed to cool his head the previous day—he overhead a couple of the Fairy Talers within, gossiping on their downtime. "—you really think she might be?" Came one voice.

An irritated response succeeded it: "I don't know, man, I'm just tellin' you what I heard! Who knows if it's true?"

A third voice joined the low din, female, hushed with trepidation: "Not so loud, idiots! If someone hears you talking about this, they'll tell Akuha, and I sure don't want to know what she'd do to us then."

"Look, all I know is," came the second voice again, "if the girl's just missing, that's one thing. But if she's dead, she's dead. Nothing the captain can do about it. So she might as well stop moping and start behaving like a leader. We got jobs to do, and she can't be off going crazy over personal matters. You know, I hear she hasn't even left her room once since Yomotsu. Just sulking up there, it's ridiculous."

The first voice, then: "Well I, for one, hope she's alive. Can you imagine how Akuha would react if her precious little sister was killed on her watch?"

"Oh, don't even say something so scary. Knowing her, she'd take it all out on all of us at random. That's why, if we find out Moka's dead after all, I'm requesting a transfer immediately."

"Really? Which division you wanna go to?"

"I was thinking maybe the fourth. I mean, their leader is a real cutie, don't you think?"

"What, that Routier? You serious? She's just as psycho as Akuha! Have you _seen_ her chainsaw? Besides, Akuha's just as cute as her."

"Why don't you go tell her that to her face? I'll tell your mother you died in battle, like a hero."

"Shut up! Argh, you just cost me my last life!"

"…I swear, I don't know why I hang out with you two."

Their game ended, the trio departed the arcade a minute later, sparing only a cursory glance at the startled human nearby, who flashed them a polite smile as they left the scene.

_So, I guess word really does get around, here. _Indeed, this wasn't the first time Tsukune had caught wind of Moka's disappearance being discussed by the crew; he had already passed several other members over the last few days chattering excitedly about this latest rumor. And, strangely enough, all the people he'd heard gossiping about it had voiced similar fears and doubts regarding Akuha as these just now, if it was discovered the worst had befallen Moka.

Her duties as captain aside—they were irrelevant to him—Tsukune realized he, too, should probably worry about what the Shuzen assassin would do if it came to that. However, he knew without a doubt, the pain of Akuha's wrath would be a pale spectre to that of losing Moka. He couldn't even bring himself to consider it. Endlessly repeated self-assurances ran through his mind. _She's not dead. There's no way she could be killed so easily. No, she's just missing, that's all. Missing. And she'll be back before you know it. _Nevertheless, each such thought would always end with: _But…how could she be missing in the first place? What could've caused two powerful vampire sisters to vanish?_

No explanations were forthcoming. And thus, his own fears were perpetuated further, as was the roaring need to get Moka back as soon as possible. But he could not do it on his own. For this, Tsukune had resigned himself to confront Akuha and discover her plans to locate Moka. With any luck, she wasn't in a violent enough mood to kill him right off the bat, and did in fact have a plan in mind which she would shortly put into effect.

He arrived quickly enough, taking the elevator with one other person with whom he attempted to exchange a pleasant smile, which went unreciprocated. Disembarking at the uppermost level, he made his way to Akuha's quarters, silently marching through the cerulean-walled hallways—narrower and more pleasant than the white corridors below, as this level was reserved for the officers' suites. Of course, the room he had been stored in upon his initial abduction was among the lowest, most crowded of the crew's quarters, probably a storage room converted into a makeshift bedroom for Akuha's…playtime.

A burnt-out sigh escaped Tsukune's lips as he mentally prepped himself for what was sure to be a hectic encounter.

Turning a corner, he saw without surprise the armed guards from his last visit were still there, standing at attention before the door to Akuha's chambers. Their eyes shifted to him at his approach.

"Back again, eh?" One of them called out.

"Please, you have to let me speak to her," Tsukune pleaded. "We've been drifting along, doing nothing for three days straight, while her sister is out there, God knows where, or with who, or in what kind of danger! There is no way Akuha is just going to ignore that!"

The man on the left didn't budge as Tsukune closed the distance between them. His face remained hard and stony, and he looked down at the persistent boy under jutting brows. "Maybe, maybe not. If she does have a plan, we'll tell you about it if and when she gives the command. But until that happens, we've been ordered not to let anyone in. Beat it. Go get a drink at the bar or something." The guard hefted his rifle up against his chest, to give weight to his instructions.

Nevertheless, Tsukune found it a hollow gesture, and refused to back off. He was tired of being denied access to Akuha by these two. Every time prior that they'd removed him from the premises had only served to increase his frustration in spades. And with that frustration, the dull glow of newborn anger, fed with every rejection, until at last he would feel his very blood start to grow dangerously hot. Irate, he was just about to give the two men a piece of his mind, when something brushed distractingly against his shoulder. Making to wipe it off, he discovered it was a hand; he turned round to see the serene face of Hayate, one of Akuha's servants, staring at the three of them with a faint smile.

"What seems to be the problem?"

The guard answered before Tsukune could, gruffly: "No problem here. This kid seems to think he gets special treatment, is all. Demanding to see the captain when she's refusing company. And he's not taking no for an answer."

"That's right I'm not taking no for an answer!" Tsukune jerked his shoulder from the servant's light hold. Indifferent to the guns the guards held before him, not to mention whatever ayashi powers they were hiding, he took another bold step forward. "We need to go after Moka and we need to do it now. If Akuha won't do anything about it, then I—"

He stopped. The hand was on his shoulder again. As before, though, he sensed no menace from Akuha's servant; indeed, the smile hadn't left the man's face.

Hayate spoke, his smooth voice low. "Why don't you come with me, Tsukune? We can go grab a bite, and talk – I have some questions I wanted to ask you, anyway." He tugged softly at the boy's shoulder. "Come, let's leave these guys in peace. Who knows, it might cool your head a little. Sorry for the disturbance, you two."

Temporarily, albeit grudgingly swayed to yielding, Tsukune let himself be led off, giving the obdurate guard one last dirty look. Had it been any other ayashi on the ship who had tried to take him away, he wouldn't have quit until he had spoken to Akuha, even if he had to force his way in. For now, however, he decided to take up Hayate on his offer. These past few days, Tsukune had come into contact with the older servant several times while aimlessly roaming about the ship in worry. They had only exchanged a few words in conversation, but the initial apprehension and aversion Tsukune had grown towards trying to make nice with ayashi here had quickly been overcome by the man's halcyon demeanor and cordial manner of speaking. Hayate had already known Tsukune was no monster, but it didn't seem to faze the chestnut-haired servant. No, in fact he seemed to take all the more interest in the boy because of it. From what little they had interacted since that first time, Tsukune had learned that Hayate had an unusual—and to many, unnatural—fascination with humans as a species. Not that he would ever tell the mistress he served, of course. She wasn't the most open-minded person, as Tsukune well knew. Nevertheless, her personal servant's areas of interest came as a genuine surprise, and a pleasant one, as it now gave Tsukune at least one person in this hostile place around whom he didn't have to tense his body in anticipation of a fight.

Thus, he had acquiesced to Hayate's proposition, and was now being shown into the servant's lounge one floor down via elevator, and at the other end of the hallway. A few minutes later, they were seated at one of the tables with a small bento box each. Glancing around, taking in the laid-back atmosphere of the room, Tsukune was thankful the personal servants apparently had their own area for meals, separate from the main dining hall on the lower level where he had been forced to eat ever since being brought aboard. Rather than the huge mess of a crowd, only a few other people—presumably servants as well—inhabited this quiet, cozy lounge with them, likewise munching on some treats, drinking, or just reading. The composed ambience of the room did somewhat curb Tsukune's furious agitation, though despair over Moka's whereabouts ever gnawed at his brain.

Taking some food from his box and nibbling at it, Tsukune avoided eye contact with Hayate. He could sense the other man's gaze on him, however, his deceptively boyish face filled with keen interest, as if he expected the human before him to just start speaking. His own food remained yet untouched—he discovered his stomach was in no mood for food. He had, of course, no idea what the servant was expecting to hear. Did he want him to just talk about what being a human was like? Did he want to know his diet, hobbies…mating habits? Tsukune frowned, eyes still cast down, feeling his previous anger slowly subsiding. "So…what did you want to ask me?"

"Hm? Ah, you cut to it pretty quick, Tsukune," the man replied with a chuckle, lacing his long fingers together. "Not in the mood for small talk, maybe getting to know one another better? You are in the care," he hesitated ever so slightly before the word, "of my mistress, so wouldn't it make sense for us—no? Very well, then. Straight to business. I respect that." He paused, taking a morsel from his own lunch before at last coming right out with it. "So, tell me what happened."

Puzzled, Tsukune now looked up. "What?"

As soon as he had, Hayate's own jade eyes met his with a firm, inquisitive stare. "Tell me what happened," he repeated, his voice low over the gentle melodies streaming out through lounge's speakers.

"I don't know what—"

"Here's the thing, Tsukune. Out of every single person aboard this ship, including you, I'm probably the one who has the most contact with Miss Akuha on a regular basis—you know, bringing her her meals, seeing her room is cleaned, organizing her schedule, that sort of thing. I've been performing these duties for a long time now, Tsukune. I know things about Akuha Shuzen she would never let the world see, secrets she would have my head for if I ever decided to blab. It's inevitable, in my belief anyway, that a servant should come to know such things about their masters over the course of their service." He paused, having begun to dig into his lunch during the explanation. Tsukune's attention quickly increased at the mention of secrets about Akuha; maybe something could be gleaned that he could use against her. To his disappointment, however, Hayate didn't go any further down that road, continuing: "And who can say, really? Maybe it's because my duties are so basic, so routine and beneath her notice, that she doesn't see them, or me, as matters of any consequence, and so has no issue with the things I'm privy to—oh, of course she knows. Why look surprised?" A small smile spread across his lips, the resolute gaze with which he'd seized Tsukune's own slowly replaced by a distant, reflective look. "I've been taking care of that girl since the day she came to the Miao family's manor—ah, wait, you don't know about that, do you?"

"Actually, I do," Tsukune replied, flashing back to his journey into Moka's soul and willing the memories back to the fore. "Well, I know a little, I suppose. Only that she…what was it...returned to the Shuzen house around age thirteen, but before that she had been sent to China to live with relatives, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. How did you know?"

"Oh, Moka told me," he lied. He didn't feel like explaining the whole incident. "So then, what, those relatives were part of the Miao family? And you must have been their butler or something, if you say you were there already?"

A nod answered him. Overhead, one of the lights flickered, casting darkness and light into the room, before settling back to its normal fluorescence. "She must have been only one or two when she was shipped off to stay with them. Her father—"

"Issa Shuzen," Tsukune interrupted, absent-mindedly, recalling the imposing, thin-cheeked man from Moka's memories.

"Yes. The head of the Shuzen family. One of the most fearsomely powerful vampires of our time. Anyway, it was he who sent her to those relatives, who, as you guessed, were members of the Miao family. I can't tell you what Lord Shuzen's motivations were, as I have no idea myself, and if Miss Akuha knows, she's never filled me in, nor have I troubled her with asking. Not my place, you see. The only thing I was told was that she came to us shortly after her mother died. But clearly, whatever was behind it, she was there to be trained as an assassin for the Miao."

"I see," Tsukune mused, more engrossed with learning things about Akuha's past than he'd have imagined. Darkly, he quipped: "They certainly succeeded with that."

"Oh, indeed they did. Miss Akuha is one of the strongest warriors on this planet, and I don't think that's just my bias talking. But, I tell you, Tsukune, when she first came to us, she was as far from a professional killer as anything. I was only actually assigned to be her servant a few years later, once she was old enough to talk, but I was there when she first arrived, little more than a cute infant with a soft head, who couldn't even walk yet."

At this, Tsukune's brow raised unconsciously, his mouth drawn into a flat line. Somehow, he had trouble picturing the cold, ruthless, black-maned death machine that was Akuha Shuzen as an innocent baby.

Hayate must have noticed his wry expression, for he gave an appreciative laugh, almost choking on a mouthful of lunch. When he had recovered, he said: "It's true, believe it or not. She was quite the sweet child, even, to those of us charged with working for the Miao family. And—well, she wasn't exactly Little Miss Social, but she did manage to make friends with some of the children of close friends of the family. A little band of mischievous imps, they made together. They would get into all kinds of trouble on different occasions, but Miss Akuha would always insist on taking the blame herself, whenever they were caught. Even when the other children protested and tried to spare her the punishment, she wouldn't budge on keeping them blame-free. She was a stubborn little girl."

Tsukune couldn't help but let out a slightly wavering laugh, despite himself. "You're joking, right?" Hayate shook his head, that perpetually calm smile playing about his lips. "But, there's no way! Maybe you haven't spent as much time around her recently, but after just a few days with her myself, I can't see someone like Akuha as that type of person. A friendly little girl? I mean—how is that possible? She's a psychotic killer. How I'm actually still alive is a mystery to me."

"It's just as you said, Tsukune. You _have _only spent a very short amount of time with her." Hayate's tone, while still amicable, had become laced with a serious undercurrent. Tsukune took notice. "Yes, I am aware that if one were to meet Miss Akuha nowadays, there'd be some eyebrows raised to the point of breaking at what I say. I'm aware that she is not exactly the same young girl she was at the Miao manor years ago. Nevertheless—"

Tsukune interjected: "I would say not, by the sound of it. To look at her now…it's just, you have to wonder, what changed? How did she get so…you know," he trailed off.

There was that light again, acting up and sputtering out pitifully overhead, this time, it seemed, for good. Some of the other servants in the room glanced up at the broken fixture that now threw down a cloak of shadow over the occupied table, one of them then making his way over to the door and leaving the lounge.

"That, I cannot tell you," Hayate replied soberly.

Tilting his head in confusion, Tsukune forgot the relative quiet of the room as he said: "What do you mean? You can't tell me? Or won't?"

A timid grin tugged at Hayate's mouth at the attention suddenly flashed their way by the remaining stewards. Luckily, he thought, they quickly lost interest and went back to their own affairs. "Never you mind," he chided. "That's not what I invited you here for, anyway. We've gotten sidetracked. And Miss Akuha wouldn't like it if she heard I was telling you her life's story behind her back."

Tsukune frowned, further accusation dying on his tongue. He honestly wanted to hear more about this subject, but…well, he didn't want to get Hayate in trouble with Akuha. It wasn't difficult to assume she wasn't the type of person to take gossip lightly, particularly when she was the topic. And God knew what she'd do to anyone she caught engaging in it, even a servant who'd watched after her as a child. The very thought made Tsukune swallow nervously.

"I-I understand," he coughed. He would acquiesce, for now; nevertheless, he put it away in his mind to attempt to broach the subject with the man some time in the future. Oh, he would still be on this ship – Tsukune had made up his mind on that after some consideration. Until Moka was found, he would remain here. For one thing, even with Kurumu, Mizore and the others, he didn't have the resources to locate a completely missing person who had vanished with her sister to who knew where. Akuha, on the other hand, had the entirety of Fairy Tale's information networks, along with all the man and firepower that might, unfortunately, be necessary, if Moka had been kidnapped by hostile forces. Furthermore, Tsukune wasn't about to leave Akuha to go hunting after her sisters—as he was sure she eventually would—alone. If he somehow managed to escape the airship, and began searching separately, there was the very possible chance that Akuha would find Moka first, in which case, he would not be there, and Akuha would just take Moka once again to use in whatever schemes she had in store. By remaining at Akuha's side, however, there was at least a chance that, upon finding her, he'd be able to whisk Moka away from her sister's grasp before anyone had noticed.

And then, at last, they could finally, _finally _make haste back to China, to the Wong family and Touhou Fuhai, and get Moka's seal fixed. It had been too long since he had heard Omote's melodious, compassionate voice; heard her shy yet adorable laugh; seen her radiant smile that could without fail banish any anxieties, any doubts or fears he had about their dreams, and what they wanted to achieve together…to be together…

Not that he regretted for an instant the time he had spent with Ura recently, or the…developments their relationship had undergone (even if these had occurred amidst enemies). Indeed, now his foremost thought was to be at her side once more. How could it not be? Outer or Inner, Moka was Moka. And when it came to Ura…well, she was certainly a contrast to Omote, that much was certain. The icy veneer and stern manner she manifested would likely turn many away, intimidating them with her overwhelming dominance and power. But not him. Tsukune knew he was one of very few who had been allowed inside Ura's tough shell, allowed a glimpse of the warm and gracious spirit residing within. And together, he loved both of those facets, both shell and soul, that made up half of the girl who owned his heart.

Naturally, Tsukune wasn't about to tell any of this to one of Akuha's personal attendants, no matter how friendly the man seemed. Regarding his intentions, his lips were sealed. "So," he continued, "what did you ask me here for?"

"Yes, yes. I guess it was a roundabout way of saying this, but here it is. Despite my regular contact with the young lady, and the familiarity that a long history brings, I have no idea what happened down in Yomotsu. I know that she went there with you and her two sisters, and returned absent them, but that is all. Miss Akuha hasn't said a word about the details to me, even in frustration or anger as she sometimes does. That's why I'm asking you. Please, tell me what happened, Tsukune."

Casting a nervous glance around the room, the boy put on a hesitant smile, chuckling, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Um, didn't you just say you didn't want to get in trouble with Akuha for telling me things about her? I can't say I'm eager to risk that, either…"

Pulling his mostly untouched bento towards him, Hayate regarded his guest patiently. "That's a fair point. I can't force you, but I am hoping you'll indulge me. If you keep your voice down, nobody else will pay attention, I'm sure of it."

Tsukune held his answer behind a chewed lip. Then: "Listen. Not to be rude, Mr. Hayate—"

"Ah, just my name is fine."

"Okay, not to be rude, Hayate, but…is this really your business? I mean, we barely know each other, and you're asking me to reveal something that's still causing me a great deal of worry."

At that, Hayate's expression turned grave once more, his eyes narrowing at the human across from him. "All that is true. But, please, try to understand. As someone who has known her for most of her life, it greatly bothers me to see Miss Akuha in so agitated a state, and for once, have no idea of the root cause. Even if, ultimately, I am powerless to help better her mood, I just…I can't stand not knowing, you see…"

Hearing the man's confession, Tsukune felt a stab of pity; Hayate's brows had lowered, his forehead unconsciously creasing in clear consternation. The boy pondered, and sighed. There was just something about this guy that almost made him _want _to trust him, something terribly endearing, as one might regard an old grandfather—although, in Hayate's case, his face was exceedingly youthful. And it wasn't as if there was a specific reason why he shouldn't tell the tale…

At last, he yielded. After all, Hayate had already risked sharing information about Akuha with him, he could at least return the favor. So, after securing the man's promise that he would not breathe word of this to Akuha, or anybody for that matter, no matter how much he wished to help his mistress—to quell Tsukune's fears of being turned into the vampire's new pincushion—he began.

_To be continued…_

(A/N: Sorry for the delay! Also, all author's notes will go on my profile page from now on)


	11. For Want of the Life, Pt 2

**For Want of the Life, Pt. 2**

He recounted the whole duration of their stay in Yomotsu—well, most of it, excluding the unfortunate incident with Amane and Akuha's brutal disposal of the succubus slaver—eventually coming to the climax of their meeting with the succubus Matron, and Akuha's ruse brought to light. Fairy Tale's eggs had been implanted in the sacred tree at the heart of the land, to drain the spiritual barrier protecting the city (his listener's stoic, attentive face betrayed no opinion of this news). He told Hayate of how when he, Tsukune, had discovered this, he had dashed off abruptly to warn the succubi, but was inescapably restrained by Akuha's strength (the exact details of this, too, he omitted). And upon being dragged back to where they had left her sisters, they'd discovered the two Fairy Tale sentries who had accompanied them flat on the pavement, out cold, and the two girls nowhere in sight.

His heart had sunk – if Moka and the others merely hadn't been there upon his return, it would've been one thing. However, the unconscious guards told it clear as day in Tsukune's mind – there had been a struggle, and now Moka was missing.

It was only after a minute of him running around to the few people passing nearby, asking anyone with increasing alarm if they'd seen what happened—unfortunately, that particular block happened to be rather sparse, and no one had witnessed anything—before he noticed Akuha. Motionless, she stood rooted where she had stopped, her dark mane and cloak fluttering noisily in the sudden gust. Looking carefully as he approached her, he spotted what appeared to be a barely contained tremble dance along her body. For the briefest of moments, his mind entertained the notion that she was merely shivering from the nippy wind that had picked up.

A glance at her face erased the thought. Widened eyes, not glimpsed since he had witnessed her kill the assassins who'd threatened Moka as a child at the old manor, now stared blankly ahead, flitting around to various spots within her field of vision; upon the hand held at her side, a couple of fingers twitched, squirming as if she intended to ball them into a fist, but could not concentrate on the act. Her lower jaw hung slightly slack, small, silent breaths sliding out over her tongue until her lips stood parched. Her voice was equally soft, so that Tsukune almost didn't catch her discomfortingly steady words.

"Where is Moka, Tsukune?" It was a near whisper, but he heard it. Her tone was smooth, but punctuated with something that made Tsukune shrink back ever so slightly. "Where is she?" Again, a whisper. "I left her here, and now she's gone. Why is she gone, Tsukune?"

"I-I don't—there wasn't anyone looking at the time, and—nobody saw anything, they said. It looks like they were attacked, but…" he trailed off, his own heart too heavy with that sorrowful fact to worry about relaying the news. He hadn't had a chance to linger on his growing despair, however, for his ears suddenly faced the grave danger of being violently annihilated.

Akuha's abrupt shriek pierced the air: _"Where. Is. She?"_

All attention was turned to their spot, from that block and the next. No sooner had Tsukune covered his ears and opened his eyes again than he saw the now ferociously animated vampire bursting forward to the people he had just questioned himself. An expletive or two flashed in his head as she approached a startled young woman walking by at that moment, and he feared for her immediate fate. _Not good!_

Thankfully, Akuha had not yet set herself on bloody murder, and instead seized the nearest succubus by the collar of her shirt, her dark eyes alight with wildfire and crazed vengeance. "The girl who was there, the one with white hair! You must have seen her! _Where is she?" _She seethed at the woman, who had spluttered out her ignorance and her apologies in white terror, before shoving her aside and chasing down the next person she could see.

For his part, Tsukune could only chase after Akuha helplessly, trying to catch the rampaging young woman as she dashed along the rest of the now gathering crowd, frenziedly interrogating anyone she could, before her wrath got the better of her and left a pile of mutilated corpses splattered along the street.

Tsukune was, ultimately, relieved it hadn't come to that. He didn't want all those innocent deaths on his conscience, whether by his hand or not. Not to mention, a trail of bodies would've made their eventual escape far more complicated and, frankly, uncertain.

No, before events had could take such a turn for the ugly, Akuha had abandoned her fruitless quest for information – being frustrated by timid, fearful cries of ignorance – as her fury swelled like a raging volcano, rocking the ground with massive explosions of terrible power. Leaping clear of the crowd with a snarl, she'd taken to activating her Jigentou and ferociously swinging, striking, almost flailing her lethal hands about into the surrounding buildings. Tsukune looked on, disbelief etched across his features, scared to approach and even more so attempt to stop the girl, as she cut through the glass windows of surrounding buildings, sliced her flattened hands and the invisible energy extending from them through brick and stone as if they were no more than pudding. His mind raced, trying to conceive despite all odds how he might end Akuha's terrifying, not to mention property damaging, warpath.

Ultimately, though, it had been her own untamed fury that had put a stop to the madness. Perhaps primal emotions had overridden her cool, martial discipline, for not until it was right on top of her did she notice the collapsing rubble of a small, abandoned store that had succumbed to her lethal assault. Buried within an instant under the ruins, a hefty chunk of stone had struck the side of her head, and her body crumpled to the ground like a boneless doll.

Hearing the approaching sirens of the succubi's police force several blocks off, Tsukune's panic was nearing overdrive. In hindsight, he supposed it would have been the right thing to do to simply remain there among the ruins—sans the crowd, which had fled in terror at Akuha's destructive onslaught—wait for law enforcement, and inform them of Akuha's plot to siphon off the entire city's protective energy barrier. With any luck, she would've been taken into custody, and Tsukune would have thrown a sizeable wrench into Fairy Tale's schemes, robbing them of both a target site and a powerful commander in one fell swoop. Even with this knowledge in mind, however, at that time…he just couldn't go through with it. Sure, he could've left Akuha to, he presumed, a high security prison, or wherever they put dangerous criminals there; he could do that, and return to the airship outside, tell the crew Akuha had fallen, then try to use their resources to find Moka. Of course, upon the slightest examination, this plan was frail on its own. Even in the unlikely event he managed to convince the crew to begin a search, it wasn't like they would be unaware of his lies for long. News would no doubt leak of Akuha's imprisonment, at which point if he wasn't killed outright, he would probably be thrown back in the brig while they attempted to spring their leader – and if they succeeded, he could only cringe with dread at what his fate might be when she returned. All this assuming, also, he hadn't been held as Akuha's co-conspirator and locked away himself from the beginning.

No, such a plan was not a viable one given his circumstances. He would need Akuha's help to locate Moka, wherever she had gone. Plus…well, evil as she was, something inside of him had prevented him from leaving her to her fate. What it was, he didn't know; nevertheless, suspecting he would kick himself later, he had burst forward, the powerful muscles in his legs carrying him with ease, and dug into the rubble. There was no one left on the scene to stop him – although the sirens shrilled steadily louder with each passing moment. His training with Moka had made him strong enough to lift the slabs and bricks with relative ease, until he had reached the unconscious girl below. Her black cloak had been torn, and was smeared with dust, but she looked surprisingly fine, otherwise, a few cuts aside. Her breathing came in slow, but steadily. Clearly a mere rock to the head was not enough to kill such a powerful being, Tsukune had mused. Whether this was for better or worse, he tried not to dwell on, then.

Instead, he had grabbed Akuha, hoisting her up in piggyback style (he could feel her low breaths against the back of his neck), and fled. Cowardly or not, to leave Yomotsu unaware of the danger it was now in, he couldn't think of anything else but finding Moka. Moreover, once he'd calmed a bit, he had made a silent vow to return to warn the succubi as soon as possible, before Fairy Tale's plans could advance – this part, he omitted from his tale to Hayate.

This was where he ended it, back in the servants' lounge. The room had totally emptied of its other occupants while he'd been speaking, all off to their other various tasks around the ship, leaving him and Hayate alone at their darkened table. Their half-finished lunches sat neglected. No one spoke for what felt like minutes, instead just listening to the ceiling fans softly whirling overhead.

At last Hayate broke the silence: "I see. So, that's what happened. I'd wondered why you came back dashing at a pace I'd never thought possible for humans, Miss Akuha slung over your shoulders."

"Y-yeah…"

"Well, I can certainly understand her behavior now that I know that," he said candidly. "You know, ever since she brought Miss Moka aboard, I'd been wondering just what effect it might have on her, if something were to suddenly happen to the girl."

"What do you mean?"

A wistful smile creased the other man's face. "Come on, Tsukune. Surely you know how important the girl is to my young lady. I truly believe that Moka Akashiya means the world to Miss Akuha. She would do just about anything for her little sister without blinking, and I can only imagine the pain she's in now over this whole ordeal, and how worried she must be. Let's face it, Tsukune, I'm sure you've seen how…protective, she can be when it comes to Miss Moka."

At the reminder, Tsukune's mind briefly flashed back to his first night as prisoner on board the airship: he recalled the murderous loathing in Akuha's wilting glare, and the blood she'd shed from him at just the slightest hint of his feelings for her sister. The old scar throbbed faintly at the memory. "Oh, trust me, I have."

"Then I don't have to tell you how volatile she will be until she gets her back." Hayate sighed, then suddenly rose to his feet, gathering his bento box. "What a mess. And you have no idea what might've happened? Where Miss Moka might have gone?"

Getting up himself, Tsukune shook his head, leaning his hands on the table. "Like I said, when we got back those two soldier guys were unconscious, both Kahlua and Moka were gone, and no one had seen a thing."

"That's right, Miss Kahlua's missing, too. Though, that doesn't seem to faze my lady as much," he joked. Together they gradually made their way out of the lounge, throwing their trash in the bin. "The thought of Miss Moka being in danger is probably what troubles her most; I bet she just assumes Miss Kahlua can take care of herself."

"So can Moka, you know," Tsukune objected. "She's plenty strong, too." He could hear the conviction in his voice, and it rang true; unfortunately, it wasn't enough to ease the fear in his own gut at all the horrible fates Moka could be meeting that very moment. Forcing himself not to dwell on such negative thoughts, he reaffirmed what he said: "She's…the strongest person I've ever met."

Hayate nodded, pleasantly. "Still, I wonder. From what you said, it sounds like there was an attack, if half your party was out cold when you returned. And if that's the case, and both Miss Moka and Kahlua were missing and never came back, isn't it possible they did not leave voluntarily?"

Tsukune's eyes narrowed. He'd considered that in his speculations almost as soon as he'd returned to the ship. However: "But, what could be capable of overcoming such powerful vampires? Forcefully kidnapping them?"

"That's what gets me, as well," the servant agreed. "I've only ever seen Miss Kahlua in action, and briefly, at that, but if the younger sister is anything like them, she must be a fearsome sight to behold in battle. Off the top of my head, I can't imagine any creature that could take them down."

So conversing, the two traversed the lengthy hallway, back the way they'd come, riding the elevator to another level. It was a few moments before Tsukune realized they were, in fact, heading back in the direction of Akuha's chambers. He raised this point with his companion.

"Ah, yes. Now that you told me the story, I just figured it might be best if we confront Miss Akuha together, in hopes of encouraging her to search for her sisters, if she hasn't any plans already."

"Really?" It was true Tsukune had been planning on angrily barging into Akuha's room earlier and demanding that very information, but now, he felt a cooler head prevailing, heard whispered fears in his mind warning of the danger of reaching a hand into the lion's den. With effort, he brushed them aside. Moka's life could depend on how he acted next. "I suppose you're right." He grinned then, and laughed. "Actually, I'll feel better if you're there with me. You can protect me in case Akuha wants to kill something."

The other man flashed him an amused smile. "Are you kidding? If it comes to that, I'm using you as a shield."

On they walked, and within the next minute they'd neared Akuha's room again. Tsukune exhaled in exasperation at the sight of the two sentries from before, the armed pair remaining unmoved from their post. As they approached the door, however, a voice suddenly rang out behind them.

"Hayate! Hey, Hayate!"

Turning, Tsukune glimpsed a uniformed young brunette, some twenty paces back down the corridor, waving urgently at them. Well, at Hayate, as her address seemed to indicate.

"Hm? What is it, Lanfen?" The servant asked politely.

She gestured frantically. "One of the front searchlights is out, it looks like there's a scheduling conflict with maintenance, the guy showed up drunk, and—anyway, come on, we need your help!"

"Oh, good lord, not again," Hayate huffed. Then, tossing an apologetic look at Tsukune: "Sorry, I have to take care of this. Why don't you wait here till I get back, and we'll try to talk to Miss Akuha then?"

Mystified, Tsukune could only nod dumbly in rely, unsure of what was happening. Then, as Hayate made to depart, something suddenly struck him, and he blurted out: "Hey, wait a second! You never told me, but what are you, exactly? What type of ayashi, that is."

Pausing, the man drew in a breath, and, fixing Tsukune with a startlingly solemn look, uttered with cool ease: "Who said I was an ayashi?"

It took a moment for Tsukune to process this reply, but once he had, he could've sworn he felt his heart miss a beat. "Y-you're not an ayashi?" Realization came rushing to him like a bullet train – if this man wasn't an ayashi, there was only one other thing he could be! He had never even considered the possibility, but could there actually be, as a member of Fairy Tale, on board this very ship…a human? A potent silence hung on the air, the roots of an impossibly relieved smile starting to grow on Tsukune's lips. Hayate held his gaze, and then—

His own mouth twitched upwards, and a hardy laugh tore from his gut. "I'm just kidding! Had you going for a second there, eh? Yes, yes, I am an ayashi. Really, I am! Sorry, that was a mean joke, but I couldn't resist." His guilty grin provided stark contrast to Tsukune's surly glower.

"Yeah, yeah," the boy said dismissively. "So, are you going to tell me, or not?"

"Hm, how to put this? Let's just say, there's more than one type of vampire, Tsukune. Remember that."

The boy stood, stunned. Catching the girl called Lanfen waving him over again, Hayate cut off any response he could have uttered. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. Go hang out somewhere. I'll come find you when I'm done." With that, he took off into a jog, quickly reaching his co-worker and darting down the hall.

"Ah, wait!" Tsukune called after him. "What do you mean, 'more than one type'?" But the man had already disappeared. Left alone, Tsukune's mind began to race. Behind him stood the two guards; he could feel their gaze crawling with suspicion along his back. Clearly they were not prepared to change their stance from earlier. Not that it mattered, he supposed. Hayate had told him to wait for his return, which meant he was probably confident he could gain them both access to Akuha's room via some excuse, such as bringing her a meal…or sedatives. Whichever was necessary.

But still, the thought chewed at his mind, how long would he have to wait? It had already been days since Moka disappeared. Could he really afford to let this drag out any longer? With this much time having passed without even a glimpse of Akuha, his suspicion was growing that she actually had any plans to find her sisters.

He turned, avoiding the guards' watchful eyes, instead focusing on the door they flanked. There was no sound within. Just what was she _doing _in there? His fists clenched tightly. Why had she made no move after three full days? Why was she holed up in her room like it was a bunker, removed from the world, while her crew below whispered and doubted? What was she thinking? Did she even care? Tsukune had thought Akuha's one true love in this world was her little sister – had he be mistaken? For all he knew, Moka could be suffering torture this very moment, whether with water, garlic, or any number of vampire weaknesses he did or did not know about, and yet Akuha seemed content to do absolutely nothing!

His blood began to boil, and his ears felt hot. There it was again. This familiar sensation. The sweltering rage igniting in the pit of his stomach, just like before. The blood of the vampire within, sweltering, threatening to scorch the very veins through which it vigorously coursed. _How dare she, claiming to love Moka when it's like she's just abandoning her now. _He couldn't stand for that. Screw waiting. It couldn't be afforded. He had to see Akuha now; Hayate could join him upon his return. And so, feeling an abnormal surge of power, Tsukune took a purposeful step forward.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Meanwhile, just on the opposite side of the door, the haggard, tousle-haired young woman lay still as a log atop her bed. Shadows ringed her eyes, the lack of recent sleep apparent, as the smell of her old shirt evidenced the lack of a recent bath. Ignoring the aching, rumbling vacancy in her stomach, she stared blankly at the ceiling above, her full attention given to the monitor on the desk near her head. She waited, silently, as she had again this day, and every so often, the speakers would buzz to life, a voice would sound through, then vanish and return silence to the room. Although it was a different voice each time, each always echoed the last, carrying the same terse message to the weary vampire's ears: _"No information, ma'am."_

Too tired to move, Akuha lay there as these reports came in, one after the other, her agents, spies, informants, all of them, all saying the same thing. Her sisters – her Moka – were nowhere to be found.

From the moment she'd returned from Yomotsu, Akuha had holed herself up in her quarters, immediately dispatching the entirety of her considerable personal information network, sparing no amount of manpower to locate her disappeared sister. Of course, she'd first ordered an immediate sweep of the entire surrounding countryside, figuring Moka and Kahlua couldn't have gone too far so quickly, and hoping to spot them from the air. That, however, had proved a fruitless effort. Upon discovering that not a soul could be seen for miles, even from their skybound vantage point, sheer confusion had flooded Akuha's mind, along with pure terror the likes of which she had not experienced in…she could not even recall. Not even the fear she'd had on several recent occasions of being hated by Moka matched this cold dread. And with every new crackling voice that patched through, her messengers, heralds of despair, fed her anguish.

Feeling a sudden, irritated strain in her eye, Akuha lowered her lids, blocking out the room's dull light. She tried to still her breathing, to focus, to meditate on events. She'd now had several days to go over in her mind what had happened, but still she could come to no conclusions. Whatever the cause behind her sisters' disappearance, why it had transpired, or even how, along with their current whereabouts and safety – all of this was completely unknown and indiscernible to her, and gave fuel to her growing sense of helplessness.

For helpless she felt indeed. And that, perhaps, was the most foreign and, in a way, most terrifying feeling she'd ever experienced.

Whether it was those lowlifes who had tried to kidnap and hurt Moka back when they were little, getting the Shinso blood running through the veins of Akasha Bloodriver, stopping Tsukune Aono and his corrupting influence on her precious sister, or any other matter, her problems were almost always resolvable by merely destroying whatever obstacle was foolish enough to stand in her path. A quick swipe of the hand, and foes fell beneath her by the dozen. And if, by some unusual chance, she was not strong enough to defeat her enemy, she would simply put her body to the grindstone, honing and enhancing her skills, until dispatching the opponent was a matter of ease.

Such were the manner of challenges Akuha had encountered her entire life – ones with a clear, surmountable obstacle, the kind which always could, inevitably, be made to die. She was used to these types of problems. No, more than that, she was good at them. Perfect at them. She knew the art of killing inside and out, its familiarity having brought her countless victories in times past, inimitable reputation, and iron pride.

Which was why, perhaps, she now lay, sullen and desperate, upon her bed, with not a spark of strength racing through her muscles. For this was not a problem within her realm of experience. This was not an obstacle which could be seen, which could be fought, conquered, or killed. There was no obvious enemy here, one that could be made to bleed for taking her dear sister – if there was, she had no way of knowing. With her agents coming up empty in their wide-ranging searches, she was truly in the dark, grasping in an empty abyss devoid of light and path.

This was not a problem Akuha knew, and she was terrified.

As if that weren't bad enough, she lamented with an inward groan, she had completely lost control back in Yomotsu and gone berserk. _How shameful, such a display in front of a lowly human like him. _She could only imagine how he would lord it over her after that incident. Her pride took a hit as she remembered how she'd reacted: shrieks, cries, an uncontrollable outburst of desperation. All in the middle of public, before Tsukune's very eyes. Worse, still, she had even been informed that the boy had carried her back to the ship. _Carried! _On his back! Her face flushed hot at the thought. Why would he do such a thing? And what must he think of her, now? A small, simpering little girl, no doubt, weak as a fragile child who couldn't so much as blow her nose without his help.

But, who was he to judge her? A tiny, insignificant human, nothing more. _He _was the weak one, not her! She was a vampire, the mightiest creature on earth, with the potent blood of her indomitable ancestors flowing through her veins! She was not weak. She would never be weak again. This was the promise she had made herself, countless moons ago, and yet, here she was, rendered utterly powerless in the face of this disaster she knew not how to overcome. Huffing at a thin strand of white draped over her nose, she listened still to the gentle whirring of the monitor.

A sudden commotion outside redirected her attention. Casting her gaze over to the door, she could hear muffled voices beyond. Rising voices, angry, seemingly arguing. Then, a shout, followed by a couple of grunts and heavy thuds up against the doorway.

A moment later, the doors swung open. Akuha instinctively bolted off the bed, shifting into a defensive position, shielding her eyes from the bright light of the corridor that had been unleashed upon the dimly lit chamber. Against the source of the light, right on the threshold, a tall figure stood, a dark pillar of thick, impenetrable shadow.

"Akuha!"

The noise rang harsh in her ears, a sharp contrast to the low thrums she'd been listening to report one failure after another.

The shadow moved, quickly; perhaps it was the prolonged time she'd spent motionless atop her sheets that made her slow to react, for it crossed the empty space between her and the door and, before she knew it, stopped a foot short of her. Only now, it was no longer a shadow, and, slowly acclimating to the room's newfound radiance, she found herself meeting the heated, brown eyes of Tsukune Aono. Behind him, the slumped figures of her two guards were heaped sloppily on top of each other. "T-Tsukune…!" This was the sole exclamation she could make, too shocked at this sudden intrusion to even hurl a customary insult at the boy. "What—what is the meaning of this?"

"It's been three days, Akuha. Three days!" Tsukune's voice was raised, and shaking. "Did you forget Moka's gone? She could be anywhere in the world, could be in serious trouble, and you just—!"

He tripped over his words. Peering again past the boy, Akuha's own eyes widened at the sight of her unconscious, still armed officers who had clearly failed to keep her room secure. Then again, she mused, this was the same human who had decimated nearly an entire dining hall's worth of her ayashi crew. Perhaps it wasn't at all surprising, then, that a mere two sentries had fallen before him, if he'd gotten serious. For serious he surely seemed, the normally warm brown orbs holding a quality she'd not noticed in them before. A murky, festering darkness, trembling like a black flame deep within his eyes. And there, on his neck, faint and receding but still visible, jagged, black markings creeping up from under his collar, the skin lightening once more as they faded. A strange shudder coursed through her at the sight, jolting her, quick as lightning.

He continued; clearly, whatever was going through his mind had made him bold, as, stepping forward, he grabbed Akuha's sleeve at the shoulder. "Tell me right now. What are you planning to do to find her? Do you have any ideas where she might have gone?"

At last regaining a modicum of composure, Akuha felt the sensation depart, her brow furrowing in displeasure at Tsukune's attitude. Snatching his wrist in a death grip, she wrenched his arm outwards, taking an ounce of pleasure as he winced. "So," she hissed, "you decide to beat up my men, barge into my room, and dare to put your hands on me?" She prodded his chest sharply with two fingers. "Don't think the fact that I've let you in my bed means you can be so familiar and disrespectful."

"D-don't be ridiculous!" Tsukune stammered, flustered. "It has nothing to do with that! I just want to find Moka, that's all. Whether I like it or not, you're the only person here who can help me." He inhaled, sharply, his next words wavering: "I haven't even been able to feel if she's alive or not…"

Akuha cocked an eyebrow at that statement. "What do you mean, 'feel'?"

"I…I have a sort of connection with her," he confessed. "I can sometimes sense Moka's emotions. You know, what she's feeling, kind of. I don't have much control over when it strikes, but when it does, it's almost as if I can see inside her mind, like we become the same person, if only for a moment."

"I see." Akuha replied. She suppressed the rising envy in her heart at the revelation of this even more intimate connection Tsukune shared with her sister; now was not the time.

"But, it's never gone this long without me feeling something from her. I can't even sense if she's still alive." His voice began to crack. For the past few days, Tsukune had been able to keep a relatively cool head by focusing on gaining access to Akuha and demanding she look for Moka immediately. However, now that he was in her chambers, the full weight of Moka's disappearance was beginning to hit him, hard.

Meeting the human's gaze, Akuha was caught off guard to see a gleaming moisture in his still intense eyes. _Is…is he going to cry? Because we don't know where Moka is? But that's impossible. He doesn't care about her. He's just using her, just like all humans do. _Regardless of these thoughts, for the briefest instant, she could almost see her own despair mirrored in the human before her. She shook her head to rid herself of the notion, scolding herself for even thinking that way. "Look," she began, keeping her tone cross, "Don't make the mistake of thinking I don't want to find my sisters. Not that I need to tell you this, but as a matter of fact, I sent out every available agent I had the moment I could. They've been scouring the country for the past three days."

"Really?" Tsukune swelled with hope. "And, did they find anything?"

Flicking a rueful glance over to the monitor, Akuha's shoulders slumped. "…No. They haven't."

"_What?_ Then, what are we supposed to do next?"

Again, she paused, this time uncertain how to answer. This was just what she'd been reflecting on minutes before. What _could _she do next? How was she to solve a problem when there was no visible enemy to target, to attack and kill? "I don't know," she mumbled, casting her eyes to the floor.

Tsukune's hand slammed against a bedpost. "That's not good enough! You can't possibly have no other plans?" Silence met him, only furthering his frustration. "Come on, Akuha! I thought you were supposed to be this great paragon of strength. I thought you'd be far more capable of tracking down Moka than I could. Was that a lie? How can we find her? Please, tell me!"

Then she, through gritted teeth, hands clenched into trembling fists: "I said, I don't know."

Tsukune looked crestfallen. "It was a lie, then, wasn't it? I thought you, if anybody, would go to the ends of the earth to find Moka. Whatever else I may think of you, I thought that at least for her…for her, you held genuine affection and maybe in your own, twisted way, actually wanted to protect her, and had the strength to do so. Guess I was wrong, huh? I guess if there's nobody for you to tear open with those hands, you can't do much of anything—"

"SHUT UP!"

Her shriek piercing the air, Akuha jerked her head up. All of a sudden, through the dark tresses that now caressed her pale face, Tsukune saw that fresh droplets had leaked forth, and now, as black strands began to cling damply to her cheeks, he felt his fury dissolve, the air rushing out of him in an instant, like a balloon popped by a needle. This deflation, however, was quickly replaced with a pointed anxiety – the last time he had been around a distraught Akuha had ensured this would be so. She said, then: "You—you dare speak to me in such a fashion…! A helpless little human like you? I don't see you coming up with any genius ideas, you know. And who do you think I am, anyway? There's no 'lie' about it. I _am _strong! I _can _protect Moka—I _will! _Wherever she's gone, I'll definitely find her soon. It's just—it's just…" She found herself unable to say just what it was. Whatever confidence she was trying to project, the supporting words were lost to her, and those she could find sounded hollow in the warm, dim room. The amassed fatigue brought by days of lost sleep suddenly washed over her like a heavy, torpid wave, her already weary muscles now weighing down like thick logs on her small frame and her spirit alike. The steely gaze she fixed upon Tsukune was belied by trembling shoulders and rebellious sniffles. Her voice grew disconcertingly small as she spoke, as small as she now felt before the boy, her captive: "What do you want me to say? You want me to say that you're right, that I couldn't keep Moka safe? That I'm out of ideas to find her? Powerless?"

"…are you?"

Her eyes fell, unable to meet Tsukune's for what she was about to say. "I've been unable to find her despite all my attempts. I have people scattered across the globe, and yet, even so, she's left no trace to follow. I…I am out of ideas, okay? I've…_failed." _The word was choked, the girl's pride, which always stood like a wall of diamond, now a cracked ruin of soft clay shattered into a million tiny bits of rubble, in front of the last person she would've ever wished to see her reduced to such a state. The shame burned deep inside her.

Tsukune stood still, brow lifted at the surprising admission, when something caught his sudden attention. Trailing to Akuha's feet, his eyes were drawn to the carpet; within the dark fibers, an even deeper shadow had appeared, and seemed to be slowly expanding. It took only a moment more for Tsukune to glimpse the droplets of blood leaking from the girl's nail-pierced palm.

"Well?" She muttered, turning slightly away from him. "Aren't you going to say anything? Or are you just getting a kick out of humiliating me like this?" The fresh wounds on her hands didn't seem to register. Nevertheless, the crimson continued to flow.

Without thought, Tsukune reached out, exclaiming: "Akuha, wait, you're bleeding."

"What?" Lifting her hand, she saw the damage done and delicately unclenched her fist, grunting "Oh," in response. Apparently, it hadn't registered.

Looking back on it later, Tsukune still could not deduce what had driven his next move. Perhaps it was the fact that the girl before him was Moka's sister; perhaps it was just his tried and true sense of chivalry; perhaps, for but a fleeting instant, he felt a swell of pity for her. Whatever it was, stepping forward abruptly, he took hold of Akuha's wrist and lifted her hand to eye level. "Let me see."

He could practically feel all of her muscles go rigid at the contact, as well as the heat rushing to her face, now hastily hidden behind black locks. "W-w-what do you think you're doing? Release me."

Tsukune gave no sign of compliance, however; what was running through his mind, then, he couldn't be sure, but as he looked at the dull stream of warm liquid, he felt a faint stirring, somewhere deep within, like a spark struck from a flint in a pitch black room, dancing to life momentarily before dying out with a feeble hiss. And in its wake, a bubbling roil in his core, surging and swelling at the sight of the close crimson river. Feeling himself in danger of sinking into the gloom, it was Akuha's muffled voice that slowly dragged him out of his stupor. "Hey! Are you listening to me? I said let go!"

Blinking, he realized he'd been clutching her hand tightly before his face for several moments, more blood leaking out as a result, the fluid as scarlet as the bright crest of the blush across her scowling face. Hurriedly, he dropped it, uttering a clumsy apology. Akuha ignored it, bringing her hand up to her mouth and, glancing at the wound for a moment, placed her lips over it to stifle the flow. Tsukune remained silent. Then, seemingly satisfied she'd halted the bleeding, Akuha muttered, bitterness clear in her voice: "Everything would've fine if you hadn't come along…"

The insult pricked him. "Excuse me? You do remember, you're the one who took me prisoner in the first place, don't you? I never wanted to be here. And as I remember it, you seemed pretty happy to…you know…with me…" He trailed off.

Shooting him a sharp glare, Akuha shook her head. "That's not what I meant." Once again, she poked a finger into his chest. He smelled alcohol on her breath as she spoke. "Things would've been fine if you hadn't come along into Moka's life. At all."

Eyes widening in disbelief, Tsukune replied: "What is that supposed to mean?"

Her voice steadily growing louder: "If it wasn't for you, Moka's head would've never been filled with all that nonsense you spout about us living together with you humans. She would've never had any hesitations about helping us reach our goal and ridding the world of your filthy race. Everything would've been perfect between us, and that business in Yomotsu would have been so much simpler. Not to mention, I wouldn't have had to leave her side to chase you down, and she wouldn't be missing now!"

Tsukune swatted her hand aside, now matching her glare. "Are you crazy? You're blaming this on me?"

"Of course, it is your fault! Moka wouldn't have been taken if it weren't for you!"

Stunned by her attack, Tsukune fumbled for words to stand his ground. "Yeah? Well, did you ever consider that maybe she wasn't taken? That she disappeared to get away from you?"

From the way her arms folded across her stomach as she took a step back, it almost looked as if the wind had been knocked out of her by a punch. "Then you should be happy, right?" she whispered, heavily. "You've been trying to take her away from me all this time, and now you finally got your wish."

"_Take her away from you?" _He repeated, incredulously. "I'm not trying to—what do you even mean 'take her away from you'?" Taking a step forward, he looked Akuha square in the eye, the fear of her arm through his gut overridden by a storm of indignation. As his anger grew, it almost seemed like his body did as well, with Akuha shrinking in stature beneath him. "Look, whether you like it or not, I love Moka! We're together, got it? Ever since we met that first day at school, I—I knew deep down that I needed her in my life, and wanted so badly to be part of hers. I'm sorry if that bothers you, but you're gonna have to learn to deal with it!"

As soon as the words had left his mouth, however, he realized that might have been unwise to say, especially at such close range. Sure enough, before he could even react, Akuha, her expression suddenly frosted over with a deathly chill, had crouched into position and swung her leg out with lightning speed, aiming high at Tsukune's head. He watched the foot approach, finding himself unable to defend in time.

Unfortunately for Akuha, it had slipped her mind that after mostly lying inactive in one's bed for days, a few stretches might be prudent before sudden, jerking movements. No sooner had she aimed for her target than she felt a sharp pang in her thigh. Recoiling with a gasp, she lost her balance, doubling over, and collapsed in a pile on the floor.

To Tsukune's chagrin, once the world had stopped spinning, he found himself on the bottom of this pile, Akuha's hands planted beside his shoulders. His own hands had been filled with something soft, yet firm; he realized he was holding her hips in his grasp, his hands bunched under her loose shirt, up against skin. She cursed, softly, struggling to rise. Tsukune felt her unkempt hair sweep across his face as she shifted on him, her body brushing, unintentionally, against parts that kindled a heat in his loins; even in her unclean state, he couldn't deny that she possessed an unbelievable sensuality, from the deceptively supple flesh he felt under his fingertips, to the smooth, fluid way her toned body brushed against his as she moved. But, he scolded himself, now was not the time for such thoughts. Moving to get up (he could see that no helping hand was forthcoming), he was alerted to a large damp spot on his cheek.

Akuha spoke, but her voice sounded almost broken in Tsukune's ears. "Not that it matters now, anyway. Moka's gone, and I don't know how to get her back."

Rising to a sitting position, Tsukune frowned, silently willing his heart to stop pounding in his chest. "I'm sorry, but I don't accept that." He slid his hand over his face; sure enough, the cheek was slick with wet. And he knew its source. He stood, letting out a deep breath, moved to calm by another flash of sympathy. His tone wasn't harsh: "Akuha, there has to be something we can do, right? What about those spies of yours?"

Her eyes turned toward the monitor, dejectedly. "I told you. None of those useless guys were able to find anything."

He took note of the defeat in her voice. "Then, we could try going back to Yomotsu, ask around again if anyone saw anything. Anything at all. Even if they just found a single strand of silver hair, that would be enough! If we got their cooperation, then maybe we could—"

"If we got their cooperation?" She snorted at the idea. "I can't imagine they'd be too obliging after the property damage we caused."

"You mean _you _caused."

A curt stare was his reward for the remark. "Never mind that, by this point, those eggs have probably grown to maturity and started doing what they were intended to do. Even if they haven't been discovered yet, it's not a smart risk to go back there."

Against his better judgment, Tsukune decided not to once more voice his protestations on this subject. Like it or not, now was not a time he could afford to be at odds with the Shuzen assassin. Moka's life could be at stake. He had to let it pass. "You can't be telling me there's no way to trace her? None _at all? _No one in…in Fairy Tale even, who might know a way?" He cursed himself silently for having to resort to suggesting help from that organization.

Akuha paused, keeping silent. In her crimson eyes, Tsukune sensed something like discomfort, and uncertainty. Pacing to the other side of the room, she took a bottle of red wine off a shelf and, popping the cork with unnatural ease, downed a mouthful straight from the bottle. She kept it in her grasp, but did not sip again, instead letting it dangle by her fingers, wiping her lips with the back of a hand, her body still. She stared straight ahead, brow creased in thought.

"There's something, isn't there? You look like you have an idea," Tsukune exclaimed, moving next to her. Catching a glimpse inside the bottle, he was a bit surprised to see it was nearly empty. "If you've thought of something, spill it!"

She shook her head, the tangled mass of black atop her head whipping from side to side. A look of marked displeasure pulled at her mouth. "No, forget it. It's nothing that would help us, anyway. Not when it comes to this."

"So, you're saying there is a way, right? Why wouldn't it help? Whatever it is, it's better than just sitting here doing nothing."

She hesitated for a moment, then relented, saying: "Yes, technically, there might be a way. It's a long shot, though, barely even worth mentioning, which is why I didn't even bother considering it."

"What is it?"

Turning, she eyed the boy carefully, regarding him with something like curiosity. "You know, I have a feeling you won't be crazy about it if I tell you."

"I don't care. I want to know."

Once again, Akuha didn't answer right away. Staring down the neck of the depleted wine bottle, she took a final swig and walked over to her monitor, the machine still whirring tranquilly. Adjusting the tiny microphone by its side, she pressed a headset to her ear, hit a few keys and, a few seconds later, a soft click sounded in the room. It was then she spoke. "It's me. Tell me, what's our current—no, how close are we to headquarters?" Tsukune could only hear the faint, warbled voice on the other end. Akuha replied: "Yes. Yes, I don't care. Set a course. Yes. We…_might"—_she stressed the word, stealing a glance at the boy—"be able to find some assistance there." She stepped away a moment later, after receiving confirmation. "Well, it's all set," she announced. "We'll arrive at the Floating Gardens in a couple of hours."

"Floating Gardens? That's the name of your base, then?"

She nodded, then, slowly making her way over to him, locked his gaze and held it firmly. "Listen to me. I still think this will turn out to be a fool's errand. Moka's not exactly popular with everyone in Fairy Tale, you see. What I'm saying is, this is your idea, and if it fails, it's your responsibility. Consider this my official warning."

"If you're so against it, why did you just make the arrangements yourself?"

"Because I—I just don't have any better ideas, at the moment," she stammered indignantly, "That's all. But I'm telling you, this isn't going to get her back!"

"How can you be so sure? You still haven't even told me what it is," he replied. As he watched her, she seemed to be undergoing the faintest of transformations right before his eyes. Just a few minutes before, she had appeared stricken with despair, visibly wallowing in misery, at a complete loss for action. This hadn't entirely changed, but a small vibrancy had leapt back into the girl's face. He wasn't sure how, but he could read in her expression a genuine, if reserved, hope. In all the time he'd spent with her, the masks of callous indifference and savage cruelty had been firmly secured upon her face. To see, now, such a different look of almost childlike anticipation at even the barest chance of finding her sister, skeptical though she was, was quite something. Almost…endearing. Something struck his mind, a reminder, and before he was conscious of it, the words were tumbling from his mouth: "Whatever it is, it'll work. It has to. Don't worry, Akuha, I'm sure we'll find them."

A cocked eyebrow greeted him. "You are proving a strange human to figure out, Tsukune Aono," she said. "Even with my failing attempts to understand how you got Moka to like you, you go ahead and toss another curveball my way. Don't you hate me? Don't you hate my organization? And yet now you're not only pushing for us to go seek their help, you actually sound like you're trying to cheer me up. Why?"

Tsukune was taken aback by the question. Standing between Akuha and the open doors, he could again see how curious she looked in the dim light. He wasn't sure how to respond, honestly. He knew he was essentially asking for Fairy Tale's, his enemy's, help. Ordinarily, he would've imagined it a sooner occurrence for the sun to turn to ice, but in a situation like this, when it came to protecting Moka, drastic measures were called for, even if it meant supplicating such a heinous group. "It's not that I'm ever gonna support what you guys are doing," he insisted. "But…for Moka's sake, I have to do anything it takes." He had no choice, after all. Moka would surely see that as well, right? And, as for her sister: "You—you feel the same way, don't you?" It was more a statement than a question. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not forgiving you for anything you've done or are trying to do, Akuha. Really, I don't even trust you. But…even if I want to deny it, you do love your sister—in a very weird way, of course, but I guess it's still love…" He paused, having forced the words out, almost as if slowly coming to terms with a new reality. "She means a lot to you, doesn't she? I mean," he gestured at her hands, "you even bled for her. I suppose…that says something." Akuha stared at him, silent. "So, for now," he finished, "I think we're on the same page, you and me."

Behind him, he heard voices springing to life back in the hall, urgent, hurried voices that gradually came closer, taking note of the collapsed bodies by their captain's chambers. Akuha, for her part, seemed to ignore them, scrutinizing the boy before her with the most indecipherable expression. Even in the low light, however, a rosy glow had crept plain as day onto her features. "I-If you say so," she said, stiffly. She seemed guarded and slightly apprehensive. A pair of puzzled ayashi appeared in the doorway then. With a quick wave, Akuha gave assurance that everything was fine and dismissed them. Moving back over to her monitor, she pulled up a screen that displayed what looked like a map of the entire country. A blinking red dot flashed just off the northeast coast, with a smaller, white dot flickering a bit to the south. "You know, of course," Akuha spoke again, "I could just dump you overboard and go try this myself."

Tsukune couldn't help but smile a little, hearing the forced assertiveness in her voice; he had spent enough time around her by now to have a fairly good idea of when she was attempting to reassert control. He wasn't falling for it. "Then go ahead and do it," he challenged. "But of course, _you _know, without me, you would still be lying around in bed, no clue how to even begin looking for your sisters."

Akuha opened her mouth, looking as if she meant to fling him a sharp retort, but then decided against it, only grunting out "Shut up," before expelling Tsukune from her quarters, deciding she wished to be alone until they arrived at headquarters. As she ushered him out the door, she leveled her gaze at him and, peering past thin brows, said: "Be ready for me to call you."

With that, she shut the doors, and Tsukune was alone in the hall once more. He looked down; the unconscious guards were still there. He wondered what to do with them, finally deciding to sit by the wall and wait for Hayate to return. Feeling like the heavy burden that had weighed on him the past few days had been lifted a tiny fraction, he chuckled inwardly. _I hope he's not too annoyed I didn't wait for him._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Deep within the darkness, a rat stirred. Scurrying along the narrow, precipitous path, its ears twitched at the heavy clipping sound approaching; footsteps, echoing throughout the endlessly vast chamber. The rat fled as the owner of the footsteps made their way over the threshold, darting back into an adjacent corridor and into its tiny hole in the wall.

The person entering the chamber now paid the diminutive intruder zero mind, making her way through the gloom pierced only by candles struggling to hold back the flood of shadow. She walked down the narrow pathway, the thickness of the stifling air bringing her no discomfort. Eventually, she reached its end. There she stood, upon a small, circular platform jutting out into the center of the cavern. There was silence, complete silence, the kind a child hears when they wait with baited breath, trying to discern what made that sound in the night.

The silence did not bother her. Moving to the very edge of the platform, she leaned forward, peering into the black abyss that awaited any who might be so unfortunate as to fall from this spot. Her breathing, however, was calm. Things such as these did not trouble her. Looking down, her eyes were able to break through the darkness, able to make out the very bottom of the pit, and what resided there. She felt a faint prickling coursing along the back of her neck, barely noticeable, but there. It lasted but a moment, like a heartbeat. At last turning her gaze aside, she held up an arm under her nose, as if inspecting it, then, seemingly satisfied, put it back down.

Her words ghosted past delicate lips: "It won't be much longer now, my dear. Everything is moving into place, and in the end, what's yours shall be mine."

A minute later, she was gone, and the emptiness was silent once again.

_To be continued…_


	12. For Want of a Friend

(A/N, just a reminder, all future notes, updates, etc, go on my profile page, so even if you don't see any here in the chapter pages, there might still be some relevant info on my page. I had a couple emails relating to that, so that's an fyi)

**For Want of a Friend**

The trip to Fairy Tale's headquarters had been brief, and uneventful. Hayate had returned a few minutes after Tsukune was forced from Akuha's room, visibly drained from whatever ordeal he had undergone with the maintenance crew, and stupefied by the scene now before him. After bringing the unconscious guards to the medical bay and extracting an explanation from Tsukune as to what had transpired, a shocked and amused Hayate had given the boy his own quarters to rest in while waiting for their arrival at the Floating Gardens, while the servant himself went about his other duties. He assured him, too, that he would inform Akuha where she could find the human when ready.

The time seemed to fly by for Tsukune, miraculously; he had always thought apprehension dragged out its passage interminably. He had managed to finally doze off, the smooth rumble of the engines felt through the bed easing him into slumber, but he couldn't have been asleep more than a few minutes when Akuha came rapping loudly at the door, announcing through it that they had arrived and it was time to disembark. Upon joining her, Tsukune realized she had apparently bathed during the flight, as evidenced by her much more appealing scent, though from her still haggard face, he guessed she had not caught any new sleep these past few hours. She wore her usual frown—her ivory cheeks curiously tinged with a dwindling flush, as if she had been exercising—and had thrown on her customary black coat; catching his eye for an instant, she sharply, almost violently, turned heel and, her back to him, commanded him to come.

Tsukune was still groggy as he followed the Shuzen assassin down and out of the airship, through the hangar and to the boarding ramp. Nevertheless, even through smoky vision, the sight that greeted him outside overwhelmed even the majesty of Yomotsu back when he had first glimpsed the succubus city.

The Floating Gardens were aptly named, he quickly decided. He had never really spent much time wondering about what Fairy Tale's home base might look like, but now that he saw it, it felt perfectly appropriate. There, up in the sky, between puffy sea of white and deep, vaulted azure, tinted purple now, and red, by the slowly descending sun, the airborne isle loomed over the world below, the world of humans it sought to destroy, like a deadly hammer waiting to strike. Not that one could see the world below from this perch; so high was the altitude, and so thick the cloud layer, that the planet's surface might as well have been the ocean floor.

As for the island itself, try as he might, Tsukune was unable to grasp its full scope in his mind. The colossal floating island and the fortress that capped it dwarfed all imagination, and the narrow, direct path along which he now walked robbed Tsukune of the chance to get a view of the enormous station in its entirety. From his angle, all that was visible were the small wooded groves off to the sides, in which several Fairy Talers seemed to be relaxing or passing by; the great courtyard and terrace coming into sight before them, through which were accessed a daunting flight of stone steps that crept up the natural incline of the rock and led to the main fortress, jutting from the towering slope; and the stark, ominous mountains themselves off in the distance, the central of which housed the stronghold. This structure, it occurred to Tsukune in a flash of memory, reminded him of the Shuzen family castle he had visited in Moka's inner world, in what felt like a lifetime ago.

He followed Akuha, taking deep breaths in the thin air, as she led him past various checkpoints guarded by uniformed soldiers, moving them along with ease. Clearly, he noted, the young woman was well-known and respected around here. Every soldier they passed gave a sharp salute at her mere approach, stepping aside from the path before she even uttered a word. She swept through the courtyard, shooting off customary greetings to several individuals they encountered—officers, presumably, with several gold stars emblazoned across the chest of their uniforms—before moving forward, Tsukune on her heels, ignoring the others loitering about. Everyone shrank before the vampire like grass giving way to a gust.

Even with their path unobstructed, the island was massive beyond compare, and it was no small hike straight from the ship to the top of the long stairs. At last, however, they had passed through the great gate and into the citadel. From this point on, they were guided by another Fairy Tale officer – a formality, surely, as Akuha walked side by the side with the man, obviously needing no guidance. Tsukune caught bits and pieces of their conversation, distracted as he was by nerves at being in the lion's den, hearing a "—such short notice" here, a "—won't be happy about this" there. The rest of their speech fell upon deaf ears. Akuha had told Tsukune, as they made to depart the airship, just what the plan was – this time, with Moka's life perhaps at stake, he felt she would not deceive him. And in any case, it didn't matter: she informed him they were simply going to visit the very leader of all Fairy Tale, a person who had the ability to provide assistance in this matter. She told him nothing else, leaving his mind to wander all sorts of places imagining what this leader was like. A monstrous being, no doubt, he mused as they passed through one side of a colonnade enclosing an open garden and into a tower near the center of the fortress. Someone who loathed humans and sought the destruction of their world even more than Akuha, if that was possible. Someone who would be able to sniff him out as a human instantly, despite the vampire blood running through his body. He began to imagine a terrible beast of gargantuan proportions, tentacles and shadows stretching and seething from a bloated mass, endless rows of human-sized fangs lining a gaping maw; in short, something along the lines of the Shinso Alucard in Moka's memory, fitting, he felt, for Fairy Tale's commander.

Whatever the truth was, he was about to find out. They had ascended a significant portion of the tower and now, their guide taking his leave, were left standing outside what Tsukune assumed were the leader's chambers. The gold dragon head emblazoned above the archway, staring straight ahead with beady eyes of black crystal, certainly suggested as much. His nerves even more afire, he was reminded of when they had stood just outside the Matron's hall back in Yomotsu. _Hope this goes better than that did._

"We're here," Akuha said then, glancing at him with bags still shadowing her eyes. "Remember, you're the one who thought this would work. I tried to tell you otherwise, so don't be surprised when this little idea comes crashing down around you. And it will."

"Still pessimistic?" He frowned. "I thought I told you, Akuha, whatever the chance, this is our only—"

She cut him off with a frustrated wave, shaking her head. "You don't know…We won't find any help here. Not when it comes to Moka. At least, not without a price. And the price is always steep."

"What do you mean? What is the price?"

She shrugged. "This time? Don't know. It's not like it's set in stone or anything. All I know is, something will be demanded of you in return, and you probably won't like it. That's been my experience anyway." A pause, then, she knocked on the gate firmly; it slowly slid open a moment later. "Well, you'll find out soon enough. Go on."

At last, they were inside. Immediately, Tsukune had to shield his eyes; the preceding passages had been comfortably lit, but this room was far brighter than he'd have expected. Thinking the ceiling perhaps to be made of glass, as in the Hall of Innocence, he raised his head to look at it. Nothing but cold stone. The light, it seemed, was artificial, blazing forth blue from harsh braziers set along the room's back wall and corners, casting light and shadow intertwined along the floor and the voluminous bookshelves off to the sides. At the very back of the room, up towards the ceiling, a huge screen hung, blank with static at the moment.

A chill began to creep along Tsukune's neck. He did not know why. Behind the wide wooden desk in front of them, bestrewn with papers and a few potted plants, before which sat two extra seats, no one sat in the high-backed chair; aside from the two of them, the room appeared unoccupied. And yet, something pricked at his subconscious, something he might have described as a faint warning of danger. The stones below his feet felt cold even through his shoes, and he almost felt as if the floor would suddenly open wide and swallow him alive in the gaping darkness.

His mind thus occupied, he almost did not notice the distant footsteps approaching from..._Where? _They did not come from the hall outside, but almost, he believed, from within the walls themselves. A minute later, and one of the bookshelves began to rumble and rotate laboriously, grinding open to reveal a hidden passage, filled with shadow.

"She's here," Akuha stated.

Tsukune blinked. "She?"

A voice droned out, warm as honey and as smooth as a serpent's scales: "Akuha, sweetheart, welcome. I see you brought your pet to me after all. How delightful."

The owner of the voice entered the room, and as she stepped into the light, Tsukune felt his heart skip a beat. Everything he had pictured about what the leader of Fairy Tale would look like—the tentacles, the teeth, the sheer ugliness of a bestial monstrosity—had been far removed from the reality. What he saw now, moving to take her seat behind the desk, was a stunning female of unbelievable beauty. A heavy overcoat with thick gold shoulder straps hung loose around her, making her appear larger than life; beneath it, a simple black dress covering her surprisingly small frame, high sleeves running up her forearms and an extravagant necklace that hung down almost between her breasts. Short blonde tresses framed a heart-shaped face and eyes as red as fresh blood, and Tsukune was alarmed to see what looked like Moka and Kahlua's seals being used as a hairclip. What caught his attention most, however, was the unique, exotic shade of her flawless skin, one that looked strikingly familiar…

"Well, aren't you going to introduce us, dear?" The woman had seated herself, crossing her toned legs and resting her chin upon a fist. "Please, sit."

"Akuha, what's going on?" Tsukune demanded to know. "This…this is the leader of Fairy Tale? Who is she? And why does she look like Kahlua?"

The woman's soft brow rose. "Kahlua, you say? How do you know my daughter?"

"Y-your daughter…" Tsukune's eyes flung open. A memory triggered in him then, his own but not his own, something he had seen, or heard maybe, during his time in Moka's soul. "But, that means, you're—!"

The black-haired girl exhaled exhaustedly, as if her remaining energy was draining simply by being in this place. "Yes, this is Gyokuro Shuzen, the leader of Fairy Tale." Her voice held a palpable edge to it, one that was not lost on Tsukune; she then formally introduced him to her superior.

"Ah, that's right." Gyokuro snapped her fingers, having ignored the boy's outburst and introductions to continue with her own train of thought. "The Snow Village, now I remember. You must have met her there." She smiled warmly. "She's a beautiful girl, is she not? Tell me, has she overcome her little stumbling problem? I haven't seen her in a while, but in times past, well, let's just say she was quite accident-prone. I would even have to pad rooms for her own safety. Her, a top class assassin of the noble Shuzen family." This with a chuckle.

Overwhelmed, Tsukune could only flop down into the chair behind him, stuttering: "You're Kahlua's mom…But wait, how do you know about what happened in the village?"

Another laugh, one that strangely set the hairs on Tsukune's neck on end. This time she answered him, a finger trailing absently along her cheek. "Shouldn't I know what my own subordinates are up to? That was quite the little incident, you know. They told me all about it, including the presence of you and your little interloping friends. Well, regardless, I'm so thankful Miyabi had the sense to call off my daughter before it was too late. With all my captains and all their schemes, it can be troublesome for me to personally keep track of every single movement; it is good to know I can rely on them to make good judgment calls when necessary."

"What are you talking about, called her off?" Tsukune growled, feeling the familiar spark of anger crackle in his heart. "You could've had all of us dead. Why would that Miyabi make Kahlua retreat when she was right on the verge of finishing us off? That's how you guys operate, isn't it, destroy anyone who stands against you?"

Gyokuro's smile hadn't faded; past her spread lips, pink and moist, Tsukune caught glimpse of the elongated fangs, gleaming whitely and ending in needle points. He shuddered at the thought of the damage those blades could do. "I believe," she began slowly, as if weighing her words, "the answer to that question leads us to why you've come to me."

"Moka?" The name was out of Tsukune's mouth before he could realize it.

"Yes, her. Akuha," she turned to the girl, shaking her head dejectedly, "I have to say I'm a bit disappointed. Begging for my help at the first sign of trouble. Were you not entrusted with our valuable gem? How could you go and lose it so easily?"

Gyokuro's words, still gently spoken as before, but now with a conspicuous dampening to them, ruffled Tsukune. _'It'? Is she referring to Moka? _he wondered angrily, turning to the young woman beside him. He was somewhat surprised to see a dour glare adorning Akuha's face; he could practically feel the discontent emanating from her body. Why did she seem so upset (well, more than usual)? Was it because of Moka? No...Her eyes were fixed firmly on the woman before them. Was there some bad blood between her and her superior and, presumably, step-mother?

Having also now taken a seat, Akuha spoke stiffly: "I didn't lose her, she just…she just…" She couldn't find the words to finish.

"You told me over the radio you do not know where she is, correct? Is that not what it means to lose something, Akuha?" Gyokuro's eyes had narrowed, and a tightness crept into her tone.

"Yes, you're right," she grunted through gritted teeth. Then, forcing it out: "I take full responsibility for any setbacks it's caused."

Casting a sideways glance at her, Tsukune noticed her hands were balled into tight fists on her knees; for some reason, he found he had half a mind to reach out and try to calm her with a comforting hand on her shoulder, but then decided against it, imagining she wouldn't appreciate such casual contact. Nevertheless, he was a little surprised that Akuha was not throwing the blame for the incident on him this time, and was also interested to see her address someone with such deference and respect; especially, as was obvious by her strained words and tense form, when it came only with extreme difficulty and marked displeasure. She had had no issue with playing this part when they had met with the Matron, and yet now it seemed she lacked the confidence and authoritative sureness she had possessed at that prior meeting. If this was true, her pride must once again be suffering a hit, he mused. Not responding for a minute, Gyokuro leaned forward in her seat, as if mulling something over. By contrast, whatever Akuha currently lacked in her usual grace and poise, Gyokuro Shuzen was definitely making up for it, her every movement fluid, her countenance collected, and her eyes piercing and examining. Absent-mindedly, she suddenly stretched out a hand and, with the back of a knuckle, gently stroked one of the plants on her desk. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the bright blaze of the torches, Tsukune was now afforded a better look at the object of her interest: it appeared to be a frightfully large carnivorous plant, violet and white petals jutting out around the head, the mouth lined with ugly, needly teeth. It looked like no plant he had seen before, no ordinary plant certainly. It was a hideous thing, and yet, there was something almost…appealing about it. Something that caused the softest of warm sensations to hum throughout his body. Gyokuro spoke again: "In any case, what's done is done, unfortunately. Now tell me, Akuha, what do you plan to do to find her?"

Again, respect came to Akuha with audible discomfort. "I…I don't have any plans yet. Nothing I tried has worked out so far, but—"

"And so you came crawling here expecting me to solve your problems? Aren't you a little too old to come asking your mother for help?"

Akuha threw a cold look her way, her temper getting the better of her. "You're not my mother, Gyokuro. She died a long time ago. You and me, we're not that close."

"Come now, don't say such hurtful things," Gyokuro crooned, placing a delicate looking hand over her chest as if wounded; from her expression, Tsukune wouldn't have vouched for her sincerity. "Who's looked after you all these years, hm? Ever since you left that house? It certainly wasn't…" She paused; a visible flash of agitation suddenly coursed through her face, but it was gone as soon as she blinked again. "You should be a bit more appreciative, Akuha, in any case. I've done a great deal for you. Why, if not for me, who knows where you'd be now? Some lonely, desolate cave perhaps? Maybe on the streets of some human city, a pitiful urchin covered in rags begging for her food?"

"That's enough," Akuha replied stonily. She didn't have time for that nonsense, not now. She jabbed her thumb in Tsukune's direction. "He's the one who wanted to come, anyway. I mentioned the possibility that you could help in passing, but I also told him not to hold his breath. He insisted, and without any better ideas, I obliged."

"Oh?" The silken voice sounded genuinely curious now, the focus of her attention having switched. Then, to Tsukune, her crimson eyes flashing: "Such a brave boy, aren't you? Even with that warning, you chose to risk your life to come seek my assistance. What a brave little human."

Tsukune later supposed he shouldn't have been shocked the leader of all Fairy Tale had known his secret just like that—he had half expected it, after all—but in that moment his stomach sank like a stone. He had been hoping that subject would not come to light at this meeting. "S-so you knew …? How?"

Gyokuro stared at him, not saying a word, just giving him a look like a parent might give a child who asks an endearingly naïve question. Then she said dryly: "Oh, of course. Why would the leader of all Fairy Tale know exactly who her visitors were? It's not like I have any competence or intelligence whatsoever." She sighed. "Well, if you must know, again I will direct you to the reason you've come here."

Tsukune blinked, eyes drawn again to the unusual flora on the desk. It faced him, blankly and inert, and yet, still there was something inviting about it, something making him almost unwilling to look away. "I don't understand," he said.

Watching him carefully, as if studying the human boy, Gyokuro had caught his curious eye. Crooking a thin finger, she beckoned him towards her, her own eyes quietly dancing over his features, taking in everything she saw. Beside Tsukune, Akuha sat still and silent as stone, brows drawn down in a perpetual scowl, eyes darting between the two. "Come here," said Gyokuro, "and let me get a good look at you, little one. You are interested in this, are you not?" She gestured towards the potted plant. Her face broke into a cool smile. "It's quite the intriguing specimen. I can tell you think so, too. Want to know the neat thing about it? It will never die. A truly immortal life form. This one's already survived countless eons. Nothing else in the world has this unique gift. And if you try to destroy it, well, watch." Then, taking a firm hold halfway up the stem, she gave a sharp tug, ripping it clean in two, and tossed the top half of the toothy flower back onto her desk. A moment passed, when suddenly, right where Gyokuro had torn the shoot in two, a tiny green slime had appeared, bubbling and oozing its way up, inch by inch until its trail abruptly widened, expanding in a bulbous formation. Rapidly, then, the substance began to solidify, the green hardening into a firm shape, petals jutting out once more near the top; at last, rows of teeth quickly growing, a completely new plant sat before them, identical to the old one, with no sign of having ever been destroyed. Seeing Tsukune's confused look, Gyokuro reached out to stroke the fuzzy reborn mouth once more. The plant almost seemed to purr contently under her touch. "See? Instant regeneration. That, and it does keep this place free of bugs." She chuckled. "Oh, but don't try putting your finger in there; you will lose it."

But her words were only half reaching Tsukune's ears. The humming had grown stronger, especially as he had watched the strange plant's resurrection, the stem and flowers and hideous mouth surging back to life. In that moment and since, the indefinable attraction had been at its greatest, a sort of pull drawing him in, all the while the hum vibrating louder in his veins.

"Gyokuro." Akuha's voice suddenly reminded Tsukune that she was still in the room. "What is the point here? We don't have time for this."

"Point? There is no point," Gyokuro responded amicably enough to the girl's cross objection. "But your pet certainly seemed curious about it, don't you think?" She flashed an amused grin.

"I'm not her pet," Tsukune declared, shaken out of his trance. He forced his eyes away from the plant, although the powerful gaze of Gyokuro Shuzen was not exactly an appealing alternative.

"Oh? My mistake. Then should I call you her friend?"

Before Tsukune could answer, Akuha let out a sharp laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. He's my prisoner, that's all. If he can help return Moka to me, though, then I will use him."

Ignoring her, Tsukune shook his head. "Anyway, she's right. That's twice now you've mentioned the reason we've come. Why? Obviously you know we're going to ask your help in finding Moka and Kahlua. What's that got to do with how you knew I was human? Or why you're glad Kahlua didn't finish the job back in the Snow Village?"

"To answer your second question—oh, come in," this in response to the knock at the door, "I just meant I was grateful that my officer made the decision he did. We couldn't have Kahlua cutting short that girl's life. She's very important to us."

"Wait, Moka is? What do you mean?" Tsukune flung a startled look at Akuha, then back to Gyokuro. A ominous fear took hold of his gut. A man had entered the room and, bowing, made his way over to the large desk; walking behind it now, he bent down to mutter something in his leader's ear, then handed her the sealed letter he was carrying. With another small bow, he departed quickly.

"I mean she's important to us. To Fairy Tale. More than that I won't be telling you," Gyokuro said warningly, beginning to open the message.

The dread increased. Moka was important to Fairy Tale? This was the first he was hearing of it. All he knew of the organization's plans so far had been what Kahlua had revealed back when she had first arrived. _But wait, could that mean…? _"Does it have anything to do with those eggs!"

Two pairs of extremely shocked eyes swerved his way at that. Akuha was the first to open her mouth to speak, but after a second it seemed she would have to be content with just letting her jaw hang slack. Gyokuro, however, found words easily, halting her reading of the delivered letter's contents. Her tone was once again unfriendly. "Why do you know about that? Akuha. Did you reveal classified information to this human?"

The girl looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Her eyes darted between the boy and her superior, her face turning a slightly paler shade than normal – in fact, she could have easily passed as a ghost, thought Tsukune. She stammered: "N-no—well, yes, but—"

"Why?"

"What? B-but what's the harm? We had already delivered the last eggs to their target site; I didn't figure there was any problem, since he can't do anything about it."

"Actually," Tsukune interjected, "Kahlua's the one who told me." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it a little. He didn't want to get the sweet-hearted, if destructive, girl in trouble. Gyokuro didn't seem like the type to suffer mistakes lightly, even with her own daughters.

"I see," the woman replied, her mouth forming a thin line. "Well then, I'll have to have a talk with her when she's found. But thank you, Akuha, for informing me that you, too, went around carelessly discussing our organization's secrets, and to a human, no less. Boy, what did she tell you?"

Tsukune swallowed, flickering a nervous glance over to Akuha; she was not looking at him, but had cast her gaze to the floor, loose locks of hair blocking her eyes from his sight. "U-um," he stuttered, struggling to find the words. He could not. Fear had gripped him; fear of what Gyokuro might do to him if he did not answer; fear of what Akuha would do if he did.

"I see," the older woman simply repeated, knowingly, as if she had pulled the memory from his mind. "Well, we can discuss this gross break of protocol later." She leveled a cold look at her subordinate, whose own glare was still turned to the floor, her lower lip unconsciously taken between her teeth. There was silence for a moment, and when it became clear Akuha wasn't going to defend herself further, Gyokuro turned her attention back to the letter, clicking her tongue in disappointment.

Tsukune was unsure what was going on, although apparently Akuha had overstepped in sharing some of Fairy Tale's plans with him. The girl sat perfectly still, arms and legs pulled in close to her body, an indignant flush glowing in her cheeks; if he didn't know any better, Tsukune would've said she had the demeanor of a child who had just been scolded.

Whatever more Gyokuro had to say about the matter, she did not indicate, but finished reading the note in her hands, her brows drawing closer together in thinly veiled displeasure as she reached its end. She almost looked worried.

"So," Tsukune ventured warily, trying to steer things back on course, "you say Moka is important to you guys. To whatever your plans are. And of course, Kahlua, well, she is your daughter. Does that mean…you'll help us then?"

Putting the letter down on her desk, Gyokuro began scratching at her arm through the long sleeve running up to her elbow, staring at the letter distractedly. She said curtly: "Will I help my negligent officer and her human pet? Why should I?"

"I told you, I'm not her pet! And you just said that Moka was important, didn't you?"

Her nails dug deeper into the fabric, leaving unseen marks in the skin beneath. "Indeed she is," she nodded. "Thankfully, she is alive, and safe, so there is no cause for me to worry."

Tsukune felt like he had just been struck with a bolt of lightning, and, judging by the stunned expression mirrored on Akuha's face, the same went for her. "Wait," he practically shouted, before realizing it and lowering his voice as best he could. "Moka's alive? Are you serious? How? Where? How do you know?"

"You sensed it then!" This desperate question was Akuha's. She had lunged forward from her chair at the news, grabbing the edge of the desk tightly. Another nod was her reply. She felt her heart skip a beat; surely this was too good to be true, right? "Where? What's her location, Gyokuro?"

"Hold on, sensed what?" Tsukune's pending sense of relief was tempered by confusion. "What're you talking about?"

"I didn't think she'd already done it," Akuha gasped, half to herself, half to Tsukune. She flashed the boy an urgent look. "It was the reason I bothered mentioning this to you in the first place. But I never thought she'd use it to help us. She has the ability to detect a monster's aura or life force within an extraordinary range. If she sensed something from Moka, then…" She trailed off, as if daring to say the words would be like trying to hold on to a dream, only to have it drift apart into oblivion.

Little did Akuha know, but the exact same relief she had just felt now washed over Tsukune in a powerful surge. He turned back to Gyokuro; she was watching them both with evident amusement. "Please, tell us where she is," he insisted.

"Yes, come on, Gyokuro! If you know where she is don't try to hide it!" Akuha's request sounded more like an order.

The cinnamon-skinned woman didn't respond right away, simply staring at the pair with a piercing, summing gaze, and, as her eyes came over Tsukune once again, a look which, while he couldn't quite place it, made his stomach churn nervously. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought he had seen it before, in Akuha's own eyes: in the way she had looked at him on certain occasions. At length she spoke again, saying: "You know, Akuha, I just told you the girl is alive and well. Are you saying you don't trust me?"

"I need to see her for myself. I have to protect her! If any harm were to come to her…" As she trailed off, something seemed to well up behind her eyes, a strained horror as unwanted thoughts seized hold of her mind. She shook her head fiercely to banish them, and stood her ground, staring down her superior, face aglow with obstinate determination. "Now that we're here, I'm not leaving until you tell us what you know!"

Gyokuro said nothing. But Tsukune, having been soaring at the heart-fluttering prospect of finding Moka, at the knowledge that at the very least, she was safe, felt a cold draft waft through the room, pricking at his bare arms and the back of his neck, making the hair stand on end. He couldn't be sure where it was coming from, as there were no open windows or doors or even cracks in the wall that he could see, but he had a feeling the icy glare Gyokuro now wore wasn't helping matters. He felt the tension in the room rising rapidly, both women growing increasingly contemptuous; if he didn't diffuse the situation somehow, he feared a bloodbath would be imminent, with him caught in the crossfire. On the other hand, he couldn't disregard his own surfacing misgivings. In the end, he decided to give voice to them. He spoke softly, trying to appear meek and non-threatening: "Um, excuse me." He couldn't help but think Gyokuro's features grew softer, though not necessarily kinder, as she turned her attention to him. "You say you can feel her presence, but, that's no guarantee that she's alright, or not in danger this very moment, is it? Don't you think we should find her so we can know for sure? I know she can defend herself, but still…" He paused, then: "Aren't you worried yourself? I mean, Kahlua is your daughter. And Moka, well, she's Miss Akasha's, but you and her are still kind of like—"

Even without Akuha's sudden intake of breath, he realized immediately he had made a mistake. Another memory had been triggered at that very moment, a continuation of the previous one, of a conversation witnessed between Akasha herself and Issa Shuzen, there in one of the high towers of the Shuzen manor all those years ago, just the other day. If he had been trying to sway Gyokuro to the idea of helping them find the girls by appealing to her sentiments as a mother, he now found it had backfired. No longer did the vampire appraise him with a sort of whimsical, curious interest; her gaze now hurled bloody daggers that he could almost feel whistling through the air and piercing his flesh, scarlet orbs filled with more venom and loathing than he had ever seen, even from Akuha. Her voice, too, shook with boiling rage as she spoke.

"_Never _say that name in my presence again, you disgusting wretch! You speak of Akasha Bloodriver. I should have you locked up on the spot for such an offense. What, what were you going to say, hmm? That she's still like my daughter! How dare you! What do you know of—" she accidentally nicked her lip with her fang as she seethed, drawing a speck of blood and cutting her rant short. She scowled, licking the drop back behind her lips, staining them with red; then, taking a shuddering breath, took a moment to try to compose herself. She stood, slowly, securing the heavy coat over her shoulders and taking measured steps out from behind the desk. "No, she is nothing to me, make no mistake," she said lowly. "She is Issa's daughter, not mine. His spawn with that…_whore_." She spit the word out, eyes flashing at Tsukune; he thought, for a moment, he heard a touch of bitterness in her voice. "Akuha here may worship the ground that girl walks on, but she is not _my _family. So don't try to play that card with me, human. It won't work. Do you have _any_ ideawhat—" She cut herself off then, thinking better of it, teeth grit tightly as she cast a tremulous gaze downwards. Tsukune glanced over at Akuha as she spoke; he had half been prepared to see vicious fury equally plastered on her face after that little tirade, but was merely met with her common scowl. _Well, it wasn't Moka she called a whore, I guess. _

Leaning back against the front of the desk before her guests, Gyokuro took some more calming breaths, eventually feeling the tightness in her stomach dissipate. She clasped her fingers together, holding them at her waist. "I apologize, that wasn't very seemly of me. I won't punish you this time; I suppose you didn't know any better, and Akuha must not have warned you. If you repeat that mistake, however….In any case, that is neither here nor there. What concerns me at present is you two. I still haven't heard a good reason why I should help you."

Tsukune, now aware how not to broach the subject with this woman, was nevertheless confused. "Reason? I don't get it. Ok, so whatever you may think about Moka, you already admitted before that Fairy Tale needs her. Why wouldn't you help us bring her back?"

"Ah, I see now," Gyokuro said. "You were misunderstanding me. I'm not asking simply why I should retrieve the girl, but why I should deliver her back into your care."

This seemed more directed at Akuha than Tsukune, and the younger Shuzen took notice. Her frown being overtaken by a look of genuine surprise, she blinked and leaned forward in her seat. "What are you talking about, Gyokuro?"

"It's just that guarding Moka was your responsibility Akuha, was it not? I allowed her to remain in your care, in preparation for the next phase of your plan, and yet you were thoughtless and stupidly lost her. I may have the relief of knowing she is alive and unharmed this time, but what if it should happen again? Why should I give you my trust once more, when you've just proven yourself less than worthy of it?"

Back on the airship, when Tsukune had angrily, in an attempt to hurt her, suggested to Akuha that Moka had left of her own volition, she had looked as if she had been struck with a solid blow. That reaction once again leapt onto her face at Gyokuro's question. "D-don't be ridiculous! How dare you doubt my competence, Gyokuro! One mishap aside, no one is more qualified for this assignment than me. You know that!"

Tapping her nails together, Gyokuro smiled; it bordered on a sneer. "I forget, Akuha, that sometimes you can be such a child." Cutting off the girl's sharp retort with a wave of her hand, she glanced once more at her human guest; the boy's fists were grasped tightly on his knees, and she could sense the firm courage he was trying to muster.

"Please," he said suddenly, "won't you reconsider? There must be something we could do to get you to change your mind? Something you need?" He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her mood, wanting to carefully avoid saying anything that might slam the door completely on this opportunity. At his question, she turned that odd gaze upon him once more, folding her arms over her chest, gently pushing on her breasts beneath her top which heaved as she sighed; her legs crossing one over the other, causing her dress to rise just slightly higher along smooth, full hips. If she had any idea what kind of effect this posture had on an adolescent male, she did not give indication. Creases formed along her smooth brow as she thought, tilting her head to the side to look at the letter she had left on the desk.

After a few moments, she sighed, shaking her head wearily. She turned back to them. "I suppose there is a small task that needs doing. As reluctant as I am about letting Moka be returned to Division Zero's care, this is an urgent matter, even more than I'd previously thought, and I am unable to spare any other top-level agents." She frowned, keeping her step-daughter in her gaze; the girl was watching her carefully, as if trying to examine the other woman's intentions, and brace herself accordingly. Tsukune saw this as he glanced at her, and her earlier warning echoed in his head. _"And the price is always steep." _What could Gyokuro desire from them? Her and her organization being what they were, it couldn't be anything good. More importantly though…could he do it? What would he be willing to do, to feel Moka again in his arms? How steep a price was that worth?

Gyokuro was talking again, teeth marks left on her lower lip from where she had been chewing. "I guess I have no choice but to assign it to you, Akuha. Well, at least it's simple enough that you won't fumble this one, too"—Akuha's knuckles turned whiter on her knees at the slight—"And in return for doing me this favor, I will grant your request and retrieve Moka Akashiya, regardless of my opinion. I mean, I am somewhat boxed into a corner here. So, do we have a deal?"

Tsukune swallowed nervously; looking at Akuha, she nodded and motioned for him to respond. Obviously, she was already on board. Again, however, doubt coated his mind forebodingly. What was he prepared to give? A small voice whispered then, unbidden, in his head: _Anything. _He wondered if that was true. He asked, carefully: "What is it you want?"

An appreciative smile tugged at Gyokuro's mouth. "It's very simple. There is a certain item I need you to pick up and deliver to me. That is all I require."

"What's the catch?" Tsukune didn't want to beat around the bush. Simple though this sounded, he couldn't the knot in his chest unravel just yet. Akuha had said Gyokuro's deals came at heavy cost – he needed to see what it was, now.

"Catch? There's no catch. Although, you could say there might be one for Akuha here." The girl perked up at that, looking questioningly at her commander. "The person I'm having put this little package together…well, she's an eccentric one, let's put it that way. For whatever reason, the old crone decided to live among humans in one of their own cities. That is where you must go. Which means, yes, that's right, Akuha, you'll be surrounded by a sea of them. Oh, don't make that face. You'll survive." Then, eyes narrowing sternly: "And so better had they. I don't want any disturbances, rampages, or anything of the sort. I know it's difficult for you to be around humans—well, perhaps not as much as I thought," she qualified, glancing at Tsukune quizzically, "but still, restrain yourself, dear. No matter how much their presence may upset you." She paused. "That is, obviously, if you choose to accept this task."

Akuha had felt the beginnings of a low throbbing in her skull as Gyokuro spoke. A mission in a human city. _Why, why, why did it have to be humans? _As if her growing weariness from lack of sleep hadn't been enough to bear already. She had been right in her earlier admonishment – this was indeed a steep price. Why would Gyokuro ask this of her of all people in exchange for finding Moka? She didn't have _anyone _else suited for the job? Or was this some sort of punishment, she asked herself, for her failure in the first place? Torture for letting Moka out of their grasp. She shivered. Just the thought of entering one of those diseased, rotten human jungles, with probably (she thought with horror) millions of the little creatures scurrying about like vermin, was enough to set her on edge. Worse, she was being forbidden from defending herself should one of those filthy insects get too close. She flung a distraught glance at Tsukune; the boy didn't bat an eyelash. _Of course, _she thought grimly. Surely, her human companion didn't have any objection to this at all. He was probably relishing the prospect of returning to his own plague-ridden kind after so long, and seeing her squirm under these imposed restrictions. This was one of her worst nightmares, no matter what Gyokuro ignorantly implied about her sudden tolerance for humans. And what was she getting at, anyway? Akuha hadn't missed the quick look Gyokuro had cast in Tsukune's direction as she said that; was she trying to say that Akuha actually didn't mind the boy's company? Tolerated it, even? Just because earlier she had…well, that was another story, she thought, but to think she liked having the human around? "Absurd!" Her sudden outburst drew silence and confusion from the room's other occupants. She blinked, awkwardly, her throat suddenly dry, then said forcefully: "I mean, it's absurd that you think I have so little control over myself, Gyokuro."

Her step-mother smiled, walking over and ruffling the girl's messy hair, almost petting her; Akuha did not appreciate this little gesture, but remained silent and red-faced. The woman spoke: "Then what was that business in Yomotsu, I wonder? You should thank your lucky stars everything went according to plan, but regardless, payment for the damages will be coming out of your salary."

"Like I would ever pay those creatures," Akuha snorted, surprisingly hoarse. She cleared her throat. "Succubi may not be humans, but they're little better, as far as I care. I'm surprised you don't sympathize with me, Gyokuro. Where's your vampire pride?"

"Careful, child," her superior warned, shaking her head. "You are really starting to baffle me. Where's my cunning, intelligent captain, hm? Is this how you become when Moka Akashiya slips through your fingers? Look at you. Have you even slept once these past few nights? I'm not sure you're up to a task as simple as this, now that I see how dulled your mind has become."

"_Dulled?_" Akuha hissed incredulously.

"Yes, dulled." Gyokuro's tone was impatient. "Or have you forgotten what our situation would be if you'd failed to get those eggs in place, and you'd been discovered? Your advantage would be gone, and we would, in fact, need to rely upon other races like the succubi. In any case, you cannot go around putting on such uncontrolled, violent displays. It does nothing but smear our reputation. We have an image to maintain, both as an organization and as a family, and it is not one of childish outbursts. You talk of pride, Akuha – I wouldn't have thought I'd need to remind you, a Shuzen for heaven's sake, the importance of our name and reputation. What do you think made the Shuzen household the most respected in all the land? Do you think it was just our strength? That is important, to be sure, when it comes to defending ourselves and defeating enemies, but you have to realize that without word of our strength being spread to every corner of the ayashi world, our family name wouldn't command the fear and respect its bare mention does today. And then where would we be, hm? If we were to show any sign of weakness or ineptitude—and that includes one of our own throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of a well-populated ayashi city—our allies and potential allies would desert us, our support would dry up, and that would be the end of it. Oh, yes, we could try to force some of them back in line, but ultimately that is a losing battle, and we would be on our own, before long. We're strong, Akuha, but we can't carry out Fairy Tale's mission alone, unfortunately. Our image must not waver or show any cracks. I didn't think I needed to explain this to you."

"You don't, I know all that, but—!" Akuha shot back, gesturing frustratedly with her hand. She planned on other retorts for her step-mother, but her mind refused the words access. Tsukune, meanwhile, interrupted with other concerns.

"You sound like you place a lot of stock in your reputation. What about the Snow Village, then? You sure didn't seem to mind Fairy Tale antagonizing the yuki-onna that time. Besides, talk about violent tantrums, you had Kahlua there to go berserk on the place. Didn't that smear your reputation? You might have planted those weird eggs of yours, but if ended up damaging your image, could you still call that a success?"

Circling back around the chairs to her desk, Gyokuro sat once more upon the wood top, cocking an eyebrow at the human beneath her. "Clever boy," she drawled; then, to Akuha, "It seems your powers of insight may have found a new host. I'll tell you then, Tsukune, was it? Oh, ignore her, she's just grumpy. About the Snow Village, I'll thank you to recall our dealings with those people were nothing short of diplomatic; it was only when you and your…group," she said the word with some distaste, "interfered that we had to take a more drastic approach. That's on your shoulders, little one."

Silence trailed her words. Tsukune made to defend his and his friends' actions that time, but Gyokuro raised a hand to stop him, clearly uninterested. After a few moments of tension, the woman suddenly exhaled loudly, her jewels jingling against her chest as she deflated, shoulders slumped, though she still appeared imposing thanks to her thick overcoat. "Well, never mind all that. It's not important now, anyway. All I want to know is, will you take on my request in exchange for Moka's safe return?"

Interestingly, Tsukune thought, Gyokuro's insinuations aside, Akuha hadn't jumped to accept the mission even by this point. Looking at her now, he began to wonder just how present she actually was in the meeting at this very moment. Indeed, if the heavy lids, drooping involuntarily every few moments, were any sign, she was fighting simply to stay awake. He steeled himself inwardly; he had to take charge here. "Just tell us where to go," he said finally. Glancing between him and her worn out step-daughter—who now nodded in agreement—Gyokuro beamed, although the expression didn't quite convey a normal sense of joy, in Tsukune's opinion.

"Excellent," she purred. Then, reaching for a piece of paper on the desk behind her, she quickly wrote down the location as well as instructions for the pair. As she made to give it to Tsukune, he swore he felt her hand brush and linger against his for a few moments longer than necessary; her skin was surprisingly soft, and warm. He could smell her light perfume as she leaned in close, allowing him a fleeting, guilty glimpse down her dress at full, dark breasts; he blushed heavily, placing her instructions in his shirt pocket, then winced as the vampire pinched his cheek without warning. She grinned at him, her face a foot apart from his, squeezing the flesh between her nails; in fact, she might have pinched a little too hard, as a droplet of blood quickly seeped forth from a new wound, clinging to the pads of Gyokuro's fingers. She withdrew wordlessly, leaving Tsukune to wipe gingerly at his face, while bringing her own digits up to her mouth and flicking the small pink tongue out past her lips to collect the warm fluid. The red heat in Tsukune's cheeks flared stronger at this odd gesture. "How tasty. I can see why you keep him around, after all," she said to Akuha, whose jaw hung slack in amazement; the girl's pale face whitened further, as if she'd seen a ghost. And as the boy's heart settled back into a calmer rhythm, he found his own voice in an unexpectedly parched throat, a brief word of thanks stumbling out, too nerve-wracked to say much else. Before he could even try, however, Gyokuro spoke again. "You will stay the night, won't you? Akuha, your chambers are already prepared, and I'm sure we can find somewhere for your guest, as well." She smirked, her mischievous smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer sharing."

Tsukune and Akuha blanched simultaneously. "W-what? Sharing?" he stammered.

The Fairy Tale commander sauntered over to the seated, wide-eyed pair, standing between them and patting their shoulders casually. "Don't try to hide it. It's faint, I can still sense remnants of your auras on each other. It's how I knew you were human, and how I know you have the blood of the Shinso running through you. Not nearly enough for my plans, fear not, but enough to make you the most interesting human I've ever met, Tsukune Aono." The smile never left her face, and her voice lilted with enjoyment. "So, out with it. I want to hear all the juicy details. It's not every day my Akuha lies with a human. Come, tell me, when did it happen?"

Akuha, meanwhile, was mortified, even as she found her voice to object. "Gyokuro! It's not like—"

"The night she captured me," Tsukune said meekly, earning another horrified glance from the Shuzen girl. "What?" he told her. "She obviously knows anyway." Then, to Gyokuro again: "But it was no big deal, really. Right, Akuha?"

Still stunned, the girl gaped at him for a few seconds more. Her exhaustion was clearing taking its toll, and she looked more disheveled than ever. She said nothing. Then, after a prominent pause, she said with finality: "W-we don't have time for this. If you don't mind, Gyokuro, we will be on our way now. I want to leave as soon as possible."

Gyokuro looked slightly disappointed, but thankfully, they were not pressed any further. Tsukune was already feeling the familiar, yet still unusual combination of guilt and arousal in the pit of his stomach, though slightly less potent than in previous instances.

"Ah, well, if you insist," the woman said. "But next time, I'll still be curious to hear more." Before they could protest, she moved to the door with great speed and casually ushered them forth from the chamber, a servant mysteriously appearing as if silently summoned that very moment. "Well," the vampire said as they parted, Tsukune and Akuha rising from their seats to exit, "that concludes our business for now. Take care you follow my instructions to the letter. When you've done what I've asked, you shall receive your reward. Maybe even a bonus." She paused, and then: "Oh, yes, and please give this to the old hag when you see her. She'll know what to do with it." With that, she handed Tsukune the letter she had been reading earlier, first placing it back in the envelope and resealing it with her tongue, this time placing it in his breast pocket herself. "I'm guessing I don't have to say it," she said warningly, "but do not read this. Both of you. My instructions are obviously for your eyes only, but this letter is off limits. Understand?" Then, catching Tsukune's eye as he nodded, dark skin half shadowed from the torches against the back wall, fingers ghosting softly across a small mouth half-open like a flower, her expression softened, and her voice flowed out huskily: "I will eagerly await your successful return. And Akuha, dear, you had better shape up." The boy made to reply, but Akuha's firm grip had suddenly trapped his wrist, and, her face hidden from him, he was whisked away from the dimly lit quarters.

And that was that. Stumbling at first to keep pace with the unexpectedly energized vampire, Tsukune let himself be led back through the fortress, his mind still on what had just occurred. Truly, he was, on the one hand, relieved; they had actually procured Gyokuro's help, in spite of Akuha's doubts, and with one simple retrieval mission, he could soon have his radiant Moka back by his side. He would finally be able to see her again, to take in the fragrant scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin, the moisture that would cling to her smooth lips just before they melded with his own….On the other, what they were to deliver to Gyokuro, that had not been included in the details he had been handed; it could easily be some weapon to use against the war on humans, couldn't it? And here he was, about to place whatever it was right in Fairy Tale's hands, all for Moka's sake. He knew he was navigating through dangerous, rocky waters, narrow and with little room to maneuver – if he didn't tread cautiously from here on, he would break upon one of those rocks in the space of a breath.

On top of that, he now had to additionally concern himself with Gyokuro's unsettling behavior around him. Had she actually lapped his blood off her finger? He was not given too much time to dwell on this, however, as he almost tripped descending the flight of stairs leading back to the main floor. It was then he realized his wrist was still imprisoned. "Geez, have a little grace," Akuha grumbled as the boy freed his hand, she letting it go without objection. "What the hell was that anyway?"

"Sorry, I wasn't watching my step."

"No, not that. That little tête-à-tête with you and Gyokuro there. Don't think I didn't see you sneaking a peek, you little perv. Ugh, I almost puked watching you."

"I wasn't doing anything like that! And who are you of all people calling a perv? Like you're some pure, innocent flower," he scoffed, though silently chastising his loutish ogling. "You could give any succubus a run for her money, you know that? Besides, why do you even care? Just because you got scolded like a small child doesn't mean you can lash out at me!"

Having descended the stairs and now exiting the tower back into the colonnade, coming into sight of the open sky once more, now painted with deep blues and blacks and the piercing pale of silver shining from the low moon, Akuha shot a shocked glare over her back. "Don't you dare talk to me like that! You have some guts, little Tsukune. Or could it be the scars I gave you are getting lonely? I can always give them some new friends, if you'd like," she taunted, a frightening gleam in her eye, her fingers giving a short twitch, unconsciously, as if excited to get started with carving. The skin on Tsukune's chest ached at the threatening reminder. She turned back, then, voice sullen again, said: "And I don't care, for your information. What a stupid thing to say. Hey, if you want to fuck that old bat, be my guest. Then at least you could stop interfering with me and Moka." Her voice cracked a little, and she cleared her throat quietly.

Tsukune gawked, flabbergasted. "Are you kidding? I swear, I don't even know how to respond to you sometimes! I don't—No! I wasn't thinking anything like that." These were his own words, however, he could not deny his reaction to Gyokuro's beauty. Pushing joyful thoughts of Moka to the fore of his mind could not fully erase the memories: a tender brush of skin against skin, wet, peach colored lips that turned upwards as she had leaned in close, a single puff of warm breath breaking delicately upon his cheek, allowing him the stolen look at firm sumptuous globes hanging beneath her clothes; even in the darkness, he had almost even seen the faintest pink of—

"Well, whatever." It was one of those times he was glad to hear Akuha's voice; she always seemed able to draw him out of his involuntary fantasies with her derisive candor. She sighed wearily, lacking the energy for another prolonged argument. "And here I thought you would have to pay the price for her help, but _I'm _the one who ends up with the bill. A human city. Just perfect," she grumbled, partly to herself. Then, to Tsukune again: "I'm warning you, though, don't get too chummy with her. She may think your blood is tasty, but she still hates humans as much as I do. That's the reason she founded Fairy Tale in the first place, she's always said. I'm telling you this for your own good. If you screw up with her, well, let's just say, she's not as merciful as I am."

The fact that she said this absent the barest trace of irony caused Tsukune to snicker inwardly. "I think I'll be fine. I've survived you, after all." Akuha made no response. In the silence that trailed his words, Tsukune cursed himself for indulging in unbidden erotic memories. _Here I am, giving everything I've got to save Moka, and that, of all things, is what I'm thinking about. Sex. Wrong sex. With our enemy's leader, for crying out loud. I'm a terrible person. _He glanced ahead; they were coming upon the towering gate to the citadel itself. Akuha walked in front, her back to him, her coat catching a strong wind in its tails, exposing a pale thigh underneath, loose strands of dark hair whipping about her face; irritably, she smoothed a hand through the mess, trying to hold it down. Tsukune caught up to her as the ponderous gate groaned open before them. They now stood shoulder to shoulder. _Ugh, maybe she's right. Maybe I am a…perv. _It was not a comforting idea, and one not helped by standing next to yet another gorgeous member of the Shuzen clan, one who had just recently taken a long overdue bath and now smelled fresh of lavender and sandalwood and whatever herbs vampires used to make safe their water. As they descended the grand staircase back down to the main plaza in silence, he actively fought his own urges to sneak a glance as Akuha's thigh was revealed with every other step. He sobbed inwardly. _What is happening to me? This can't be normal._

With effort, he fought to expunge the swirling, ugly needs from his attention, and in his desperate bid to think about anything else, began reviewing in his head other aspects of the meeting that had just ended. Specifically, his mind came to rest upon the unknown sensations he had experienced in that dim, torchlit office. The near hypnotic plants atop Gyokuro's desk, the sight of them gently tugging him into an inexplicable trance, the ominous hum that reverberated throughout his entire being; but, even this feeling was a mere whisper of the danger he had felt almost immediately upon entry, the brewing, stormy dark, deep below the stone floor, tranquil for now, yet still sending haunting chills shooting straight up Tsukune's spine, like death's cold touch. Even now he could nearly taste the acrid residue of the hate that had flooded his veins, prompting him, for the briefest of moments, to feel the swelling want, the _need, _for blood and murder.

He shivered at the memory. Next to him, striding at a newly purposeful pace, was the girl who had almost been the target of that need. In the sharp moonlight, her pale skin seemed to glow with an almost unearthly hue. He could see her features clearly, from the smooth plain of her forehead, largely free now of the worried creases it had shown the past few days, the delicate curve of her cheekbones, the twitch of her nose as she caught whiff of some smell or other, her small, pink mouth, lips pursed gently in quiet contemplation and tenacity. The same way, he realized, Moka's would. Emotion welled up in him suddenly at the thought of the silver-haired girl, and before he realized it, he had quietly muttered her name aloud.

Few waves of sound went undetected by Akuha's ears. "What was that?" she said, turning to him expectantly.

"Oh, uh, I just said…I wonder where Moka is right now, that's all."

There were the creases again. "With any luck," she said, shooting him a quick glance, "we'll have that answer soon enough."

Tsukune nodded tacitly, wondering silently just when she'd begun using the word 'we.' "Well," he ventured hesitantly, not wishing to walk in awkward silence, "Miss Gyokuro certainly doesn't seem to care much for Moka. Or her mother. She got really angry when I mentioned them."

"Yes, not that it's any of your business, but Gyokuro is—well, she's never been fond of either of them. From the moment Moka was born, actually, she's held a fierce grudge."

"A grudge against Moka? Why?"

"Against Moka, maybe against Akasha. I can't say for sure. If I had to guess, I'd say she feels Akasha robbed her of what she thought was rightfully hers."

"Robbed her? It sounds like you're talking about your father."

"I am. Well, partly at least."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't your trip into Moka's memory tell you?" Tsukune had almost forgotten she knew about that. "Gyokuro was my father's first wife. Before Akasha came along."

Tsukune blinked at this revelation. He had known from Moka's memory that Akasha was not Issa's only 'partner', but he never guessed to what extent. In fact, he hadn't even been sure Akasha and Issa had been married until now. "But wait," he said, "you're the eldest, Akuha. So how was she—?"

"My mother was a one night stand for father," she said, guessing the conclusion of his thought. "They were never wed."

"Oh…I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be." She waved a hand dismissively. "The nature of their relationship never mattered much to me. But, because of it, I was considered the illegitimate child, and was sent off to relatives shortly after I was born."

"And your mom…"

"Was already dead."

Again, with genuine sympathy: "Oh, I'm sorry."

"I just said don't be." Her voice was slightly louder this time. "Anyway, when I finally came back to Japan, I started hearing more about Gyokuro and Akasha."

"So, your dad was married to Gyokuro? He must have divorced her at some point if he married Akasha."

She nodded. "Gyokuro was none too pleased about it, from what I overheard. They did make arrangements, for her and Akasha to take alternate periods of residence at the mansion, and she did keep the Shuzen name, but Gyokuro never really forgave them for what they did."

"I wouldn't imagine she had. That's got to be something that's really hard to deal with." His mind quickly wandered to the look of bitter anger in Gyokuro's eyes at the mention of Akasha and Moka, and Issa, as well, before moving back to Moka, and, this time, his other female friends. Moka had brought to his attention the feelings they all had for him: he found himself wondering if he could ever be like Issa, keeping multiple partners while staying married to one. However, for Kurumu or Mizore or any of them to develop such intense animosity as Gyokuro had for her former husband and his main partner…He could not stand to think of it.

Akuha was talking again. "Not only that, but I always used to hear that before Akasha came along, she had certain plans for our family. Big ideas, they said. But after everything that happened, she suddenly seemed to just toss them aside. I assume that, too, had something to do with Akasha, and she's hated both her and Moka ever since." _Which is why I have to keep Moka close to me_, she thought silently. _In case Gyokuro tries anything funny._

"But, isn't it kind of strange? Miss Akasha is sealed in Alucard. Why would Miss Gyokuro still hate her? Why doesn't she try to take your father as her husband again? Come to think of it, neither you or Moka or Kokoa have ever really talked about him – where is he, anyway? Is he…you know?" He realized this might an insensitive question and could not finish it.

"No, he's not dead. He is…unwell." She paused, chewing her lower lip, leaving marks on the pink flesh. She realized she had already said too much. "Let's just say, I doubt that's in the cards for them. But that's all I'm telling you."

Hearing the finality in her tone, Tsukune's attention was suddenly alerted to something new. They were now nearing the beginning of the path out of the plaza that would return them to the airship. The crowds of the day had thinned somewhat under the sky's dark canvas, the lack of chattering voices leaving only the sound of the swirling grey wind of their high altitude, as well as the sudden alien noises that Tsukune soon placed as belonging to the seemingly nocturnal ayashi that had emerged to roam and skitter about. While on the way in, the members of Fairy Tale had appeared perfectly comfortable in human form, these strange beasts were eager to forego their meaty masks; eyes of beady white, glowing red and wide yellow peered devilishly at Tsukune as he passed, and here and there through the flickering candlelight illuminating parts of the courtyard, insectoid, wolfish and reptilian shapes were discernible in the gloom; he had no doubt they were only refraining from swarming him due to Akuha's presence. He might not have been afraid of fighting a group of average monsters, where there was light and he had full vision, but here, in the near pitch dark, the tall trees around them blocking the moonlight, with an unknown number of ravenous enemies, his confidence was not quite as brimming. Seeking to distract his nerves, he cleared his throat and, coming back to a concern he had yet to get off his chest, said: "I see. Um, listen, Akuha, there's something I want to know. When we first went in to see Miss Gyokuro before, there was…Well, it felt like there was something else there, beneath us, maybe. Something dark, and cold, almost like pure malice, if that makes sense. Tell me, was that—"

The rest of his question was abruptly cut off by something he did not expect. As he spoke, he had heard in the darkness a distant commotion, as if someone was running at high speed, followed by some muffled shouting. In just a few seconds' time, however, the thuds of darting footsteps grew louder, and closer, until at last Tsukune's brain began to register that something was approaching. A second later, what dim light danced in his periphery, the licking flames of the candles and the shining eyes alike, was extinguished, and everything went black. That was, of course, the least of his concerns at that moment, considering the sudden total darkness was accompanied by a voice shouting his name and a heavy force barreling into him, covering his face and robbing his lungs of what little oxygen the air held, and sending him toppling flat on his back (thankfully, he thought, onto the soft grass beside the path).

"Tsukune!" the voice called a second time. "It's really you!" From what the boy could register in his dazed state, a weight covered his body, as if sitting atop him, while a not unpleasant softness pressed insistently against his cheeks. His name was called again, loudly ringing in his ears, and suddenly the weight felt like it was being forcibly removed, against its will. "Let go of me!" came the cry. Coming more to his senses, able to breathe again, Tsukune blinked several times, shaking his head roughly. His vision returned, limited as the night allowed, and he saw the figure being lifted away, legs thrashing violently, loudly protesting and demanding to see Tsukune. His mind raced. _I—I know that voice!_

As realization dawned, he was blinded once more, this time by an overwhelming flood of light. Groaning in frustration, and pain from the fall, he put up a hand to his eyes, squinting through the striking beams of the flashlights held by what looked to be other Fairy Talers, one of whom was struggling to get a grip on the flailing figure. A figure who looked just like…

"Kurumu, is that you?" His vision had almost completely cleared. Before him, violet eyes shimmering with tears, was the young succubus, stilled suddenly in her guard's hold by Tsukune's choked recognition. Behind them, lit less prominently but now coming into focus as well: "Mizore? Yukari? F-Fong Fong!" In front of him stood his friends, looks of joy, though these Tsukune could not see, adorning their faces. _So, I was right,_ he thought with cathartic relief as he glimpsed the sole male friend of the group. "Guys, what are you all doing here?"

"Oh, you know." Mizore's cool, amused intonation flowed into his ears. "Fighting Fairy Tale, stalking you, the usual."

Kurumu sniffed loudly and gave a small laugh before answering him: "What do you mean, what are we doing here, you big goof? I could ask you the same thing. Do you know how worried sick we've all been about you guys since you disappeared?" She sounded like she was on the verge of crying, though Tsukune knew her tears were a mixture of sorrow and relief. "You were kidnapped by Fairy Tale back at Fong Fong's home, remember? We thought you'd be killed for sure. I thought…I-I thought I…might never…" Her voice broke, and she fought to restrain the emotions flooding her heart at far too rapid a gush for the young succubus. She made to speak again, but suddenly stopped short, for into her vision walked a terrible sight, bringing a hateful glare to the girl's normally sweet, smiling face. "Akuha Shuzen!" she shouted angrily. The vampire had sauntered into the light, standing beside the fallen Tsukune, making herself known to all there. Her own expression, the boy noticed, as she scanned the newcomers, was one of shock. Kurumu yelled again, a bead of sweat dripping down her forehead: "Get away from Tsukune, right now! Don't you lay a finger on him! Tsukune, what are you doing? Hurry up and run!"

"Wait a second," Akuha said then, addressing the guards who were attempting to bring the group back to the path. "You…" she then murmured, "You're alive? But how?" This was not to Kurumu. She had clearly not heard a thing the succubus had said, and was instead peering past her, astonished, at the group of young ayashi at her back. Specifically, the young heir to the Wong Family, who now grinned despite being a bound prisoner – indeed, Tsukune could now see that all his friends' wrists were tightly shackled in steel clasps.

"Thought you'd killed me, eh?" the boy quipped. "Nope, sis and I are fine. Especially her, and if she were here, I'm sure she'd say 'it's because I'm already dead' or something. Sorry to disappoint! But, well, we had Touhou Fuhai with us, see, and with youjutsu like his it was no trouble to heal the wounds you gave us."

"I knew it," replied Tsukune, relieved his hope had not been misplaced.

"What do you mean, you knew it?" Akuha demanded, rounding on him.

"Well, no, I didn't like, _know _it for certain. You told me you'd struck down the two of them, so naturally at first I was worried. But then I remembered Touhou Fuhai was with them, and that with his power, he would be sure to save them. I tried not to dwell on it too much after that. Sorry," he said sheepishly to the young heir.

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Fong Fong made to move his hands in friendly gesture, but then remembered they were imprisoned; the smile remained upon his lips, regardless. "I bet you had your hands full, being this nutso lady's prisoner and all."

"But it's so good to see you're safe, Tsukune!" Yukari chimed in. The tiny witch's head turned from side to side, the hat atop her head flopping around with the motion. "So, where's Moka? Isn't she with you? And what are you doing with…with…" She gulped nervously, nodding in Akuha's direction. The Shuzen girl still stood by Tsukune, arms folded across her chest, her face cloaked in shadow: even without seeing her, Tsukune could practically feel her wince at the question. He was hesitant to answer it himself.

"That's right, I don't see her anywhere," Mizore echoed.

Tsukune could feel the heat of shame rise up in his cheeks; with the flashlights shining on him, his friends would easily be able to see his turmoil. He couldn't hide this from them, much as he wanted to. He stood, trying to force the words out. "Um, Moka isn't here, exactly…."

A pause, as they waited for him to continue. Upon his silence, however, Kurumu spoke. Tsukune saw her eyes darting about nervously, watching the lurking beasts strolling through the black night. "What are you talking about, Tsukune? She was taken along with you. I remember when I woke up at the Wong mansion, Touhou Fuhai was there, and he said you both were kidnapped by that one there." She nodded in Akuha's direction, venom in her voice. Then, addressing her directly: "What have you done with her? Got her locked up somewhere in a dungeon on this blasted rock? Torturing your own sister, perhaps? I bet you get a sick kick out of that. Tell us where you've taken her!"

Akuha blinked, stunned by the implication, then a murderous look hardened her features. "You accuse me of hurting Moka? Who do you think you are, you little harlot, to speak to me in such a way? I'll show you what real torture is!"

As she strode forward, Tsukune called out in protest, but in vain. Her black cloak swirled behind her as she stood face to face with the succubus, fingertips suddenly at the wide-eyed girl's slender neck. A gasp slipped from Kurumu's throat as Akuha began to press, and a cut began to thinly break along the flesh.

"AKUHA, STOP!"

Tsukune's shout hung in the dark, cool air. Nobody moved a muscle, including, to his honest surprise, Akuha. She had halted at the sound of his voice, though her fingertips were still unnervingly close to Kurumu's throat. "Don't hurt her," he spoke again, firmly. Although he said this, Akuha did not withdraw her hand; before her, the young succubus glared defiantly at her attacker, trying to mask the terror in her expression. "Go on," she challenged bravely, "do it."

"Don't think I won't," came the low warning in reply, the vampire reapplying a bit of pressure on the skin. "I could end you right here easily, make no mistake."

Tsukune called out in protest once more, and was joined by Yukari and the others' shouts as well. One of the guards, meanwhile, who had been escorting the group, was glancing between Akuha and Kurumu with visible unease through thick locks of the silvery hair that hung over his eyes, as if he was under compulsion to say something but feared what the consequences might mean for his own safety. "U-um, Captain Shuzen," he muttered, trying to be discrete, though he was still audible to everyone present, "I'm sorry, but these guys are kind of our prisoners, and we're under or—under orders to deliver them to the dungeon without fail. So," he paused, swallowing, "if you could, maybe…_not _kill them, I—I mean, we—we would greatly appreciate it, ma—ma'am."

The girl did not respond right away, leaving the poor soul to wallow in his own fear for a few seconds more, before at last stepping away from her target and dropping her arm to her side; the collective breath of relief was easily heard. "Very well," Akuha said, nodding. "As you were, then."

His tension dissolved, Tsukune said to his friends: "What happened to you guys? Why did they take you?"

Mizore shrugged calmly; even in chains, Tsukune thought, she was a hard girl to rattle. "We left Touhou Fuhai and Fong Fong's sister a couple of days ago, and were on our way home, but our flight was intercepted by Fairy Tale. We were outnumbered, so they knocked us out and the next thing you know, we were on our way to their headquarters. On the bright side, getting into Fairy Tale's base turned out to be way easier than we thought."

Ignoring the joke, Tsukune asked her again: "But why? What are they planning to do with you?"

It was the guard who answered this time. "That's not for you to know, kid. Or us, actually; we're simply to bring them to where they're supposed to be. Weren't told anything else."

"Oh." It was all Tsukune could say. But Kurumu had not been satisfied.

"Akuha still hasn't told us where they've taken Moka," she exclaimed. "Tsukune, do you know?"

The innocent, worried question cut him like a knife. Perhaps somewhere, deep down, he knew it was an irrational feeling, but this could not soothe him. The sudden guilt ran straight through; it was not the first time the thought had occurred to him these past few days, but it was never more than a barely tangible prick at his conscience. With his friend's inquiry now, however, it roared to life deep in his stomach. How could he tell them? How could he admit that he had allowed something like this to happen to their friend? And that now, on top of that….He could only slowly mumble in reply: "She's not here."

"What'd he say?" he heard Yukari whisper to Fong Fong, "I didn't hear him."

"I said she's not here." This time he was clear. The cat out of the bag, he spilled what had happened, including the part about now going to assist Fairy Tale's leader so she might help them in return. By the time he had finished, looks of shock and sorrow had been struck upon his friends' features, especially Kurumu's. Once more, tears threatened to flood her eyes. Her voice was small. "Is she…dead?"

A glance between Tsukune and Akuha, and he answered: "No, she's alive, for now. It looks like she and Kahlua might have been taken by someone, but we're just not sure. I'm really sorry, Kurumu."

"And now you're going to get her back, right?"

"Yes, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible," Akuha interrupted curtly, peering under low, knit brows. "Tsukune, let's go. We're wasting time."

At that statement, Kurumu threw a sharp glance between the pair, her brow furrowing in confusion. But it was Mizore who gave voice to the same question she had. "Oh, you're going together?" Her tone was not accusatory, but not merely surprised either. Tsukune nodded uncertainly. "Yeah. I am kind of her captive, after all. Don't have much say in the matter. And she is the one with the airship." His friends eyed him uneasily. "It'll be fine, trust me," he tried to reassure them, but, though he couldn't figure out why, it seemed with limited success. The four of them were glancing nervously among themselves, as if sharing a silent secret to which Tsukune was not cognizant, and trying to find a way to break it to him.

At length Kurumu spoke again. "But…what exactly is this mission they're having you do?"

"We just have to bring something back. I don't know what it is, though."

Again the furtive glances. Then: "A-are you sure you should be doing that? Tsukune, you don't know what Fairy Tale wants you to give them. What if it's…you know, dangerous? What if it's something that could make wiping out the human world that much easier?"

So that was it, the boy realized, they had had the same misgivings upon hearing his story. The small whisper echoed again in his head, and again he tried to ignore it. He didn't know how true it spoke, that he would do anything to get Moka back, but in all honesty the mere prospect unnerved him too much to even spare it thought. He would cross that bridge when he came to it, but for now, what choice did he have but to plunge forward, head low and resolve firm? He muttered helplessly: "But…it's Moka, Kurumu. I have to do something."

"I know that," the succubus replied, sympathy evident in her eyes. "I want to find her, too. It's just, who knows how this might help Fairy Tale? I'm not sure you should do it this way. You don't want to get in bed with these people, you know that."

"It's not like I'm joining them," he protested, desperate. "But there is no other way than this."

"Sure there is! I know you think we've run out of options, but we don't need them. C'mon, Tsukune, let's bust out of here and we can go find Moka ourselves! We don't need to work with the likes of them," she said, narrowing her eyes at Akuha. The officer who had by this time brought Kurumu back in line with the others and now guided them by their chains grunted softly, as if in reminder of their situation. Tsukune pointed it out, as well: "Ah, Kurumu, there might be a little problem with that, don't you think?" Kurumu threw a quick glance at her companions and captors and shrugged. "This is nothing. These clowns can't hold us for long. Just wait a bit for us to break free and then we can ditch this place and find Moka together! Please, just don't help them."

Amid the whispers of one guard to the other ("She can see us standing here, right?"), Tsukune could only stand there in confused silence. Akuha, looking at him, felt a pang of frustration strike at her breast; seeing the human growing so conflicted evaporated the surprising amount of patience she had shown in allowing this little reunion scene, especially with such a disrespectful succubus. But now it was over. "Alright, enough of this," she announced. "Gentlemen, please escort these prisoners to their predestined spot." Then bluntly, to Tsukune, snapping her fingers at him: "You. Come. We're going." And without another word, she was off, brushing past Kurumu and the others.

Tsukune had not yet moved to follow her. He had been overwhelmed: the joyous reunion with beloved friends, the relief at their relative safety, then the hot, wrenching shame over Moka's disappearance and having to be the one to deliver the news, and now his friend's desperate plea that he not take the only option he could see to find her, all led to his confliction. Looking at their faces, he could see the truth plainly: Kurumu was not alone in her objections. Even Fong Fong's grin had faded, the thin line of his mouth set solemnly. "Guys, I…" Tsukune could not convey his turmoil to them. Couldn't they see the position in which he had been placed? His options had been limited to one; waiting and hoping to break free from Akuha's grasp was a fool's hope, he knew that much from their time together. Not only that, but…how could he explain it to them….He did not know when it had begun, but deep in his gut, against every vehement protest with which his mind had assaulted him, he had come to believe that more than anyone else, Akuha Shuzen would move heaven and earth to find her sister. Of course, they had already confirmed Moka's safety, and it was now a matter of courting Gyokuro's aid, but that changed nothing. He still believed his best chance would be at Akuha's side, until Moka had been returned to his. He didn't want to upset the others, but he had to go with her. He exhaled heavily, and continued: "I have to go. Please, trust me. You don't have to worry, everything will be fine. I'll make sure of it. When I come back, it will be with Moka." _And with her, we can definitely break out of here,_ he added silently.

Kurumu shook her head fiercely, voice catching in her throat. "Don't do it, don't give them what they want! We've been fighting against them this whole time, we can't just give up now and help them! Even…even if it is for Moka. I mean, do you think she would be okay with this? If it destroys what we've been fighting for, do you really think she'd want you to make a deal with Fairy Tale, even for her sake?"

That question cut even deeper. To his dismay, he realized that amid all his others fears and doubts, he hadn't even considered what Moka's own opinion might be, if she could see what had just transpired. Flashes of her ferocious eyes, aglow with scalding outrage, danced intensely behind his vision, as if in silent admission. But then, with a great exertion of his will, they were suppressed, shut away from his mind's eye once more as he pushed them back with a violent mental shove, a pained grimace hardening his features. He could not let such thoughts sway him from purpose, he told himself. Whatever Moka might say, he had to go after her with every ounce of effort he could spare – he could not accept any less. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear. "I'll be back soon. I promise." With that, he walked forward, following in Akuha's footsteps, laying a reassuring hand on Kurumu and Yukari's shoulders as he passed, wishing he could somehow deafen his ears to the succubus and small witch's choked cries and pleas, before they pierced his own heart.

Ahead, Akuha had not paused to wait, and, gritting his teeth in sharp frustration, Tsukune hurried after her.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Ah, that girl is so troublesome..."

Shaking her head in bewilderment, Gyokuro moved back to her desk, having now finished tidying up her office. Sinking into her chair, she took a much appreciated breath, although even this was less than ideal in the stuffy air of the cramped quarters. "I really should get some windows in here..." she mused. "Honestly, though, I always wonder what's going through her head. Well, I suppose there's no breaking her from that strange attachment she has to the girl. And now, with this human...It seems I was not wrong, after all."

A moment passed in silence, just the way she liked it. After the headache of all the official business of the day, she thanked the ancestors for this moment of respite.

A moment that was rudely interrupted by a buzz from the screen behind her as it was powered on automatically. A voice crackled through: "Commander, Miyabi Fujisaki is requesting you. Shall I patch him through?"

Gyokuro's head jerked up in surprise, and a grin slowly tugged at her delicate lips. "Is he now? Yes, go ahead, thank you."

A few seconds later, and Miyabi's nonchalant visage appeared on the screen. Swiveling around in her seat, the commander of Fairy Tale crossed her legs and gave her subordinate a charming smile. "Miyabi, how lovely to see you. What can I do for you today? I take it you have some news for me?"

_To be continued…_


	13. For Want of Warmth

**For Want of Warmth**

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"This place, I recognize it. It's just a few towns over from my own back home."

"Your home? You can't be serious. She's there, of all places?"

"Hey, small world, I guess. I've been there a few times before, with my parents."

"How special for you." Sighing in resignation, Akuha propped her boots up on the glass table, crossing one over the other. "Figures," she growled. More good fortune for the human. "Figures it would be a place you actually know and like. You just have all the luck, don't you?"

Tsukune frowned; pausing in his back and forth pacing before the door to Akuha's room, he looked up from the instructions Gyokuro had given them. "Yeah, I have all the luck. I've been kidnapped, abused, threatened with death on a regular basis, and best of all, my girlfriend's gone missing." He paused; he had partly thrown in that last bit just for the satisfaction of seeing Akuha's twitch. The fleeting enjoyment gone, he said, bitterly: "You got me, Akuha. That's every guy's dream."

A sound of dismissal was the vampire's reply. "Please." Fidgeting angrily in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position for her head—God, why didn't this damn chair have a headrest?!—she shortly gave up, shuffling over to her bed and plopping down on her back. "You don't have it so bad, you know," she was saying. "Believe me, it could've been a lot worse. Or have you forgotten that you're a human, and I'd be well within my rights to have you kept in a cell at all times? I'm allowing you access to my private chambers, I'm letting Hayate offer you his own room, I've even allowed you the pleasure of sharing my bed. Do you realize what a privilege that is?"

"Yes, it's such a great honor." Tsukune retorted, meaning to convey disdain, but blushing, regardless, at the reminder of their past intimacy. Rather than reprimand or attack him, however, Akuha just glared past tired lids at the boy, looking him over as if in an examination that ended in contempt.

"You know nothing of vampires, then. Our pride, our power. Nothing. You don't respect us at all. You don't even recognize what a great mercy it is that I show you in even allowing you to live. You're completely unfit for Moka."

Cramming the note back into his pocket, Tsukune shrugged his shoulders. He had grown used to her assertions regarding himself and Moka by now. "I think she would disagree."

"As if," she scoffed. "Whatever weird infatuation spell your blood's got her under, there's no way those are Moka's true desires. "

"Not this again…"

"Well, you've done a neat little job of pulling the wool over her eyes, somehow. But you can't fool me. Jeez, I don't know what she thinks she sees in you. You're arrogant, selfish, disrespectful—"

"I suppose you would know something about those traits."

He knew he probably shouldn't have said that. As they talked, he had been only half mindful of the warning fear that generally occupied his gut whenever he was around Akuha; although lately, that fear had become more distant and subdued, and he had felt emboldened in her presence, speaking more freely as if toeing a line, testing, wondering just how much push she would take before shoving back. He had stepped too far in the past, and here, clearly, was another such instance. Quick as she could, Akuha was off the bed, and face to face with the boy, fingertips pressing dangerously against his left temple. He swallowed nervously, but did not avert his gaze.

"Go on, keep talking," Akuha warned. "See how you like being a cyclops. Although, even one of them would be a more appropriate suitor for a vampire than you."

Before he could reply, the door behind them was suddenly flung open; the newcomer was already mid-sentence by the time he entered.

"—just curious if you had a sec, Tsuk—ah."

Hayate's head peeked through the door, his words dying in his throat at the menacing sight before him. Narrowing her eyes, Akuha looked past the object of her discontent to her long time attendant.

"Haven't I asked you before to knock, Hayate? What do you want?"

He stepped fully into the room, smiling guiltily, clasping his hands together. "Terribly sorry, ma'am. I thought you'd be up on the bridge."

An eyebrow rose. "So why look for me here?"

"I wasn't, I was actually looking for Tsukun—ah." Again his words died prematurely, though this time intentionally. Truthfully, he had been hoping to catch the human alone, to discuss some private matter with him, but Akuha's presence meant that course of action was no longer viable. "I was looking for Tsukune," he recovered, brainstorming, "I was, uh, just wanting to ask him about…about this game I heard humans enjoy. Baseball, I think it was called? It looks fascinating." He laughed, hoping the answer would satisfy her. Not that it was entirely untrue; he had just heard some of the crew discussing it the previous day, and it sounded like something he would enjoy immensely.

Looking at her subordinate oddly, Akuha at last sighed and shook her head; dark bangs swung across her face and were promptly puffed aside, and her arm lowered from Tsukune's head, removing his eyeball from danger's path. "You are so weird," she exhaled.

Hayate, however, merely smiled amicably at his young mistress, giving an innocent shrug. The girl stood quietly, as if in consideration, before saying, somewhat anxiously: "Fine. I have things to do, anyway." And without further word, she flung her coat around her shoulders, swept herself out into the hall, and the bath chamber beyond, leaving the two men alone.

A moment's silence passed between them. Then Tsukune said: "Huh. That seemed kind of easy. I'm surprised she was okay with it. She certainly left fast enough."

"Well, it's good I arrived when I did," the man replied calmly. "You looked like you were in a bit of dangerous spot there."

Tsukune could still feel the fingertips against his head. He gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I don't know. I think I'm getting used to it by now. God knows she's threatened me enough, but ever since that first little incident—" he gestured towards his gut, where the original scar she had given him still grimly smiled within his flesh, "—she hasn't really followed through. In fact…" he paused, a puzzling notion occurring to him. He had suddenly remembered the reunion with Kurumu, now several hours past, and how the succubus' heated exchange with his lethal captor had almost ended in bloodshed. Almost, until…"Even then, too," he muttered.

As he spoke, Hayate had been walking over to the other end of the room where Akuha had departed, throwing a quick, cautious glance in the same direction. "Good, good," he said absently, as if he'd only half heard the boy. Then, switching back his attention, said, genuinely: "It's nice to know Miss Akuha is starting to make friends again."

_That's not even close to what I said…_Tsukune chose not to voice this thought, however, unable to bring himself to wipe the earnest smile off Hayate's face. He cleared his throat. "So, anyway, I'm sorry but I don't think I'll be much help. I never really played baseball, so I—"

Hayate raised a hand to cut him short; his expression turning quickly somber. "Actually, Tsukune, that wasn't what I came to ask you."

A blink. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I honestly did think Miss Akuha had left you alone in here. I didn't want to mention this in front of her, you see, so I had to tell a little fib."

Circling around the table, Tsukune looked curiously at Akuha's man. "W-what did you want to ask me, then?"

Hayate approached him, laying a light hand on the boy's shoulder and meeting his eyes; Tsukune thought he saw what looked like worry in them, and lines creasing the man's normally youthful face. When he spoke, his words were heavy, the words of a troubled suppliant.

"A favor."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Weary, sickened crimson stared back at her in the glass stained with the specks of the herb-scented water she splashed against her face. Wiping the droplets clear from her skin with a towel, Akuha sighed in agitation. That damn kid had grown quite a mouth on him. He had actually had the gall to speak to her, a proud Shuzen assassin, like that. To _insult _her! And then he had barely even flinched at the prospect of her Jigentou carving into his flesh like dough. _It's like he's just not afraid of me anymore, _she thought irritably, scratching an itch on her small nose. It was like he had sensed she almost didn't want to cut him, although why this desire was lacking puzzled her.

She remembered, too, the look on Tsukune's face as she confronted him, leaping off her bed like a mad wolf, standing toe to toe with him, and a head shorter (indeed, she sometimes had to remind herself he was four years her junior). Truth be told, she was thankful Hayate arrived when he did, distracting her from her disturbingly increasing focus on the human's very…pleasant features, barely a hair's breadth away from her; perhaps it had not been the brightest move to make her threats so up close and personal.

Both of them had dressed down immediately after departing the Floating Gardens, leaving Tsukune with a flatteringly small undershirt that beckoned cruelly to her imagination: the way it tightly hugged a firmly built chest and arms built with rippling muscles, far too perfect for a human, was starting to affect her. And as they had stood close, she holding him under the knife's edge, the past scent of blood had flitted about mischievously in her mind. His blood. The memory of its assault upon her senses – the taste passing her lips and pouring over her tongue like a stream; the scent flooding her nose and swirling about her head as she inhaled, desperate for oxygen while she remained anchored by the fangs within his sweat-coated, pierced neck – these were not helping her powers of resistance.

_Why are you so concerned? You've already tasted the fruit once, and I know you can't resist trying it again, no matter how much you deny it. You said as much in Yomotsu, remember?_

Tightening her jaw, Akuha tried to ignore her nagging brain. She knew it was true, that she would suffer no real punishment for having her way with the remarkably fit human in whatever way she pleased. After all, with their race due for extinction in the near future, who among her kind would care if a survivor here and there was made into a vampire's plaything? At worst, trysts between a vampire of her ranking and a human, such as had already occurred, would be the subject of some slight scandal if made public, but little more. Even Gyokuro already knew, and hadn't so much as scolded her (although the teasing had sure felt like torture). And while Moka had seemed to object to her big sister's last romp with Tsukune, and Akuha certainly didn't want to upset her beloved sister, she was confident that she'd be able to break Moka free of whatever hold Tsukune had over her, thus returning her to her original state and ensuring she wouldn't give a flying kick at however the human might be used afterwards, if Akuha was so inclined.

None of these was the real snag. If she was honest with herself, which took a bit of effort, it all came back to the first night. In the aftermath of that wild storm of euphoria the three had experienced, she had watched as Moka and Tsukune had fallen asleep together, wrapped snugly in each other's bare embrace, warm bliss radiating from their interlaced bodies, joyous, peaceful expressions adorning their slumbering faces. She had lain there, until at last sleep came for her, too, mercifully quenching beneath its sands the newborn ache in her chest. She had not forgotten that ache. In casting about for its source, she had attributed it to a presumptive arrogance on Tsukune's part: the way he looked so satisfied, lying atop Moka's body, head nestled on rising breast, partially curtained by damp tresses bright as moonlight fractured across the sea, it was as though he were taunting Akuha, silently threatening even in sleep to steal the one good thing she had in her life, to keep Moka for himself, even unto her ruin. She had assumed the cure for this ache to be in reminding the human of his place, to treat him as any member of his apish species deserved to be treated. If he was not afforded special privileges, if he was kept at a distance, perhaps that dull ache, tenuous as a ghost yet still present, would fade with nary a whisper.

It had not gone as planned. Still feeble as before, the feeling had raised its alien head too many times for her comfort since then, and for the first time she was beginning to question the truth of that perceived origin. It had risen again as she had watched Moka and Tsukune together, the looks they shared with each other, the gentle words; in the aftermath of the few times since then that she had pleasured herself; and again, most recently, just prior to their trip to the Gardens: at her lowest point, days of fruitlessly searching passed, Tsukune had pierced through growing despair, offering hope and, if she was not mistaken, showing oddly real concern for her. This was not something she was used to. Oh, sure, Hayate sometimes seemed to take an interest in her well-being, but…well, it was Hayate, she thought. He had always done that. It was his job. She was used to the man's occasional fussing over her, especially when she'd been a young girl in China, but to be the target of concern for this boy, still largely a stranger and foe, had been unnerving. A low, brief throb had surfaced then, too, similar, yet different from the other times—almost warmer, and lighter—as he insisted she not worry and declared with confidence they would find her sisters, and she had felt a soft heat crawl up her neck.

And so, back in her room, alone with the little pest, the same sensation had given warning of its return; the reason being the rather…untimely memory that had casually floated its way back into her mind just minutes before. She had watched the boy pacing back and forth, brow set sternly atop eyes burning with resolve. As they had discussed their next course of action, part of her mind had been occupied with how serious he looked at that moment, how in control and self-assured. To one such as her, it was somewhat appealing. Not that she enjoyed taking notice of such things, which was why she had been grateful for the insult he had casually turned her way, giving anger a chance to distract from loose thoughts. Grateful, at least, until she was standing before him, suddenly and violently swarmed by memories of past delights, enhanced by his powerful physique and calling once more to mind the events of earlier that day. Of her pre-Gardens bath, desperately needed to cleanse both body and mind, wherein she had scrubbed clean all the filth that had accumulated the few days that had passed absent proper bathing.

It had been a heavenly feeling, one she was surprised to realize was sorely missed, to tenderly sink her fatigued form into the bubbling water, fresh with the smell of the purifying herbs. Down she plunged, submerging herself slowly up to the nose, both warmed and relaxed by the lapping water and hazy steam. All her worries were slowly washed away as she felt her mind soothed by the wet cradle of the bath. She sighed, a welcome release of the anxieties piled up since Moka's disappearance, like a deflating balloon. Soon they would arrive at the Floating Gardens, and though she wasn't expecting the trip to bear fruit, the faintest spark of anticipation lighted within her breast. In the meantime, she thought, she would merely enjoy the calming sensations and let more pleasant thoughts occupy her mind. A mind which quickly turned towards lost sister. "Moka, where are you?" she murmured, voice distorted under the water's surface.

Nothing had gone as she had hoped, back when she first brought Moka aboard. It had been such a simple notion: to spend time with her baby sister, taking every day to cherish and love her, all while overwriting the harmful influence with which her so called "friends" had brainwashed her. And what had this wonderful plan come to? _Squat. _It had been a complete failure so far. Well, she checked herself, apart from the festivities of that first night.

Her thoughts stilled. Raising her head an inch, she peeked around the bathroom, ever thickening with steam, just for safe measure. She was alone, of course, and nobody would dare enter without her permission. This being the case, she didn't see the harm in it – indulging in certain memories.

The amorous images returned quickly. She remembered the taste of Moka's silken lips molded against her claiming mouth; the quickened pace of the girl's heart under her soft fingertips, pulsing as Akuha palmed a firm breast through flimsy covering; her sweet moans and cries as her sister's head was buried between her legs, the snaking tongue surrounded on all sides by dripping, clenching muscles; and the blood and cum that flowed forth after she was penetrated, finding its way to Akuha's desperate mouth, as if satisfying parched throat.

Everything flowed back to her. The delicious tastes, the touches, the sounds, the sweet scents, all of it. It had been a near perfect night of ecstasy, and even now the mere memory kindled fire deep in Akuha's core. Her thin fingers slid between her thighs under the surface of the warm water, tracing a delicate line down her slit. A shiver ran up the back of her neck, making the soft hairs stand on end. Her eyes closed and she stifled a moan as more memories slipped in as easily as her finger past her lips.

She remembered Moka, sprawled out on her back, leg spread wide in sheer hunger as she was wildly fucked. She remembered still her own sudden desire to join with her sister as intimately as possible, mounting Moka's face, lowering her leaking snatch to the girl's pink lips. To her delight, Moka hadn't rejected her, instead letting her curious tongue shyly explore the gushing cunt above her, coating her perfect face and luscious silver locks with her sister's juices.

"Ah!" A moan that could not be suppressed this time, though still quiet enough. Another finger added, and another quickly again: the heat of the water was fast fading in comparison to the growing inferno in her loins. Her hand worked faster, plunging in and out of her pussy, her legs widening slightly to allow her fingers deeper access.

She slipped further into the water, her heart speeding up, her breaths coming in faster, shallower. Fucking Moka's face had felt soo good, gripping her head between her powerful thighs, cum flowing down over the increasingly bold tongue lashing at her nether regions. The image of her sister formed behind closed eyes; of Moka's face contorted in ecstatic release, smooth neck and toned stomach arched high in the air as she exploded with a scream. Akuha's free hand grasped a small breast, tiny rivulets of water clinging wetly to the pale flesh and hardened pink bud. A light pinch between her nails sent a shock down to her stuffed passage, forcing her eyes and mouth open in a sharp cry, her jet black hair matted against her sweat soaked brow, breast flushed red from the overload of heat. The intoxicating scent of her sex drifted through the herbs, quickly hanging heavy upon the steam-laden room. Three fingers pumped into her soaking depths, churning the water around her, a thumb finding its way to her clit. "Nng, fuck!" Her eyes shut, violently, and she once again set her mind's eye to conjure up the image of her sweetly convulsing sister as she neared her own limit.

Much to her surprise, though, it was Tsukune's image that greeted her. He had also been a participant that night, of course, and now again Akuha saw him. He was mounted atop her sister, as naked and sweaty as she was, propped up on his hands as his hips slammed forward with vigor, lips trailing along Moka's flushed throat as he nipped and chewed at the vampire's tender flesh, almost befitting someone of her own race. Akuha had watched, gaze blurred with lust as she drove her own hips over Moka's face, as Tsukune had ravished her.

So engrossed in the fantasy had Akuha become that she found herself raising no objection as her focus drifted towards the human boy, almost as if he had suddenly joined her in the bath. As if it were no longer Moka he loomed over, sheathed to the hilt inside, but Akuha herself. Her legs spread wider, allowing him easier access to roughly slam their hips together, letting her reel under each powerful thrust as he stabbed her deepest recesses, hammering against her cervix with a strength that startled even a vampire of her rank. The water roiled around them, splashing up and over onto the floor as Akuha locked her ankles behind the boy's back, clutching him close, growling when he pinned her arms above her by the wrists, but too far gone to protest. His mouth lowered, lavishing warm attention to her slickened cheeks and neck, leaving teeth marks on the flesh. Hungry moans escaped her throat, unbidden, her arms snaking around Tsukune's neck, jerking her hips up violently in the water to meet his own. Her senses were overwhelmed. The heat and steam of the room, the force of the boy's vicious fucking sending shockwaves through her body, his strong, masculine scent, heavy with sweat and lust, filling her head, the feel of his toned chest sliding against her breasts and stiff nipples. She swallowed, her throat growing hoarse from her cries, licking her dry lips and wetting her mouth with spit before settling back into a frantic rhythm of labored gasps.

She was close. The knot in her stomach was clenching tighter and tighter, the floodwaters threatening to burst through the dam at any second. Struggling for a grip on his firm arms, she yanked herself up and sank her fangs into his shoulder, screaming against his bloodied flesh as she came, exploding around his rigid cock, her release gushing out into the water. Her eyes rolled back in her head, body spasming in its pure rapture.

And then she was alone. Panting against her arm, she removed her mouth from the punctured limb. Blood leaked from the tiny twin holes into the tub, slowly darkening the water around her. Tsukune had vanished as quickly as he'd been conjured, and in his wake left an exhausted, still occasionally shuddering vampiress, heart pounding a mile a minute, naked flesh slick with sweat, surrounded in the tepid pool by her own swirling blood and cum.

A faint laugh escaped her lips, and she reached up to rub her eyes. "Well, that was unexpected. Not as good as the real thing, I suppose, but still…" She paused, as if expecting an answer. But there was no one in the room with her, no sound except the lapping of the water against her skin and the sound of her lungs and heart settling to a calm. Ignoring the dull ache in her arm, she craned her head about lazily; the mirror was completely fogged, and the mat encircling the tub was gorged with water. She stretched her limbs, groaning, and sank down indifferently in her own bodily fluids, awaiting what she knew must be imminent.

Sure enough, it came but a moment later: far more troublesome than the muted throbbing in her arm, hatching bitterly in her chest, like a cold blooded serpent stronger with each rebirth. Just as before, lying in a bed beside two sleeping figures, it now came upon her again: the tightening of her stomach, the bitter pinching in her chest. She had expected it—it seemed to sneak up on her in these moments as of late—but had been too taken with lust to let it dissuade her from her fantasy.

Another laugh, hollow, briefly echoed throughout the room – nothing to do but endure and wait for it to pass, as time would ensure.

And it had. Unsurprisingly, the meeting with Gyokuro had drawn Akuha's attention to more urgent matters: finally, she was on the hunt for Moka. Even if it was in a human land. She sighed in resignation. She couldn't dwell on it. There were things to do, preparations to make before they reached the destination, and she had to make sure she looked presentable. Well, that, and compose herself after getting a heady rush from the memories of the boy and his blood—a task not now aided by recalling past fantasies. She quashed the newborn heat building in her core, having no time for it, and gazed, hesitantly, into the mirror.

The glass was crystal clear, not a hint of the fog that had choked it earlier. She could see herself perfectly, her solitary reflection. A quiet exhale. Wearing a blank expression on her face, she gave herself a once over. She looked decent enough, although she would have to change into less casual clothes. Her eyes roamed over her face; still a bit haggard from lack of rest, but skin impeccably smooth and soft. The looks anybody would kill to have. At least, she would have liked to think that. As ever, pangs of embarrassment gnawed at her, the result of her enduring neoteny: the wide eyes, even when narrowed in a frown, the small mouth, cheeks that even now looked as if they still retained a hint of baby fat.

But now was not the time for sulking. Taking one last glance, Akuha lifted her chin up high and exited into the hall. No one there but for a pair of guards standing watch by her room. Giving them a casual nod, she departed, alone, past the deep blue walls, heading towards the bridge to preside over operations.

The rest of the flight passed quickly, without incident. A short message was radioed to Gyokuro upon their arrival a few hours later, but that was all. Tsukune, having joined Akuha on the bridge recently, accompanied by Hayate, stood nearby, trying to keep to himself and out of the other Fairy Talers' business. Something seemed to be on his mind, Akuha thought to herself; she had not missed the strange looks he had given her a couple of times as she stood by the map. _What's up with him? _Regardless, she said nothing, and for the most part the boy was silent. They hovered now over their destination, some several kilometers up, ready to disembark. Obviously, Akuha had stated, an ayashi airship wasn't quite compatible with human airports, so they were to be let down a healthy distance outside town, and make the trek on foot to the old witch.

It wasn't the most pleasant of walks. Akuha's feet began to ache before long, and an irritating migraine arose; both the result, she grudgingly acknowledged, of her lack of recent bed rest. The late hour certainly didn't help matters. The two of them—for indeed she had originally wished to go completely alone for expediency's sake, and had only caved on Tsukune tagging along after endless whining (as she saw it) from the human—entered town shortly after midnight, the stark moon illuminating the chilled air, catching with its light the faint blue streaks of early spring clouds. It was not much longer before, passing in silence down the mostly empty streets, they arrived at the address Gyokuro had given. It was a small house, with a rotting roof that still looked damp with recent rain. A night heron had made its perch there, like a fiery eyed watcher, croaking its chilling song to any who approached its ramshackle domain. Clearly, whoever lived here did not care too much about upkeep, thought Tsukune.

Despite the scene's foreboding atmosphere, things went rather smoothly. The witch had not been too pleased about being woken at "this damn, blasted hour!" but Akuha, despite Tsukune's insistence they wait somewhere until morning when their contact would be awake, had not been in a patient mood. She rapped loudly on the door, calling out sharply to the inhabitant inside, until at last they were met by the old woman, short and hobbled with unforgiving age, leaning on a walking stick with a hand as gnarled as the wood it clutched. Milky eyes peered at them, so white Tsukune initially assumed blindness, and once inside with introductions made, looked with sudden interest at the letter the boy handed her, still sealed as Gyokuro had ordered. As the witch, who gave her name as Strega, opened and read the message, Tsukune's gaze flitted nervously about the darkened room; the sleeping wolves huddled around the ashy fireplace, strange company for a witch, should really not have bothered one who had fought off monsters and survived this long with the most fearsome of them all, but they still set him on edge. Akuha, he noted without surprise, was perfectly undisturbed, sparing only a quick uninterested glance at the beasts.

Her calm was, unfortunately, shattered a few minutes later, once their host had explained the item Gyokuro had requested she concoct required extremely intricate preparation and would take several weeks to be ready; the wolves were instantly awakened at Akuha's enraged ranting, which might have lasted a good deal longer had not Strega, with a bored sigh and shake of her head, mumbled a few words upon which Akuha found herself muffled mid-shout, her lips snapping together like a sprung trap and sealing shut. Amid the indignant and furious noises of protest she made (now quieter) at having a spell cast on her, Tsukune raised his hand and quipped: "Can you teach me how to do that?" and was rewarded with a sharp elbow in the ribs. After explaining that they should come back later to retrieve the completed product, and securing a promise of "using your indoor voice" from a red-faced Akuha, Strega freed the young woman's mouth and bid them goodnight.

"What a rude, senile old crone!" Akuha growled once they had cleared the premises, licking at her lips absently as if trying to remove invisible traces of the seal.

"Ahah, well, you were kind of loud in there, Akuha…" Tsukune laughed nervously, rubbing his arms from the cold gust that suddenly broke against his flesh.

"Of course I was loud!" She whirled on him with vigor. "Didn't you hear what she said? Weeks! Who knows if my sisters have weeks? Damn it! Why wasn't this ready beforehand?"

His own expression turning sullen, Tsukune looked down. "Yeah, I hate it too, believe me. I want nothing more than to save Moka this very second. But, I mean, there's nothing else we can do, right? This was our only option all along. I don't think we have any choice but to go with it, no matter how much it sucks, and pray for the best."

She regarded him quietly, then made a small noise that sounded like a grunt of acknowledgement. "Anyway, I have to report this to Gyokuro." Taking out her comm unit, she flicked it on, and a moment later had Gyokuro on the miniature screen. The Fairy Tale commander, too busy for sleep at this hour, was slightly perturbed at the news of the delay, but soon resigned herself to it. And, as she assured them: "Moka remains completely unharmed."

The thought suddenly striking Tsukune, he yanked the screen from Akuha and, looking Gyokuro dead in the eye, demanded forcefully: "What about Kurumu and my friends? Are they okay? You better not have hurt them!" The woman laughed at that, airily, running a nail along her arm. "They, too, are safe. You have my word. Alright, then. You two act as you see fit until the appointed time." Then, before Tsukune could protest that her word was hardly sufficient for him, she suddenly disconnected on her end, and the screen went dark.

"She just hung up on me!" he protested to his companion as she plucked her comm back from his grip. She shrugged, seemingly picking a direction at random and beginning to walk. "Hey, that's what you get with her," she said. "Once she gives you orders, you're on your own. You're lucky she even answered your question."

Tsukune trailed her, a look of annoyance plastered on his face. "She didn't have to be so rude about it…" he grumbled.

"Hmm, what was it, again? 'Ahah, well, you were kind of loud there, Tsukune.'" This, in her best impersonation of his voice.

"Not funny." Ignoring the amused laugh she tossed his way, he followed her, thoughts swirling in his head. Something had been bothering him since his first encounter with the Fairy Tale leader, and now once more it nagged and ruffled his mind into bewilderment. He decided to share his confusion with Akuha. "But, doesn't it seem a little weird? About Moka, I mean."

"What about her?"

"I know Miss Gyokuro can sense that she's alive, or whatever that power of hers is, but she seems so…so confident, about Moka's safety. Even though it's been several days since she went missing, it's like she's not worried at all that she could be in danger. And now, we just told her it would be about a month! I—I'm terrified," he confessed, stuttering. "My heart is racing a mile a minute because of all the horrible things that could happen to Moka in such a long time." Akuha had stopped, turning to face him. The pair stood under a flickering street lamp; Akuha could see its ghostly light casting shadows across the boy's furrowed brow and drawn mouth, and could feel his expression mirrored in her own. She was afraid as well, had been from the second Strega had uttered the words. In fact, it was taking all her discipline and strength to not have a panic attack right then and there, not that she would tell Tsukune that. He continued: "But even so, just now, she didn't bat a eyelash. It's like she doesn't think there's any danger to Moka at all, or isn't worried about it, even though I know she needs her for Fairy Tale's plan." This piqued Akuha's interest. Perhaps it was a result of fatigue after all, she admitted silently, that she hadn't even taken notice of what should've been a natural concern for her. Gyokuro did seem fairly calm about the whole matter, all things considered. "Unless…" Tsukune paused, a dark, cruel thought occurring to him, one he was hesitant to even give voice, as if suggesting the fear could actualize it, "Unless she doesn't need Moka…alive."

The lethal chill of her tone in response bit at his skin more bitterly than the night air, strength surging back into her voice for a moment. "If Gyokuro were to let something happen to Moka, I would execute her myself."

A gulp. "T-that's pretty dangerous talk for you, isn't it?" No reply, just a dark glare the likes of which he had only seen a few times before. Then, slightly cowed and not wishing to provoke her in such a state: "Besides, and don't take this the wrong way, but…_could _you?"

"Could I what? Kill her?"

"Yeah. She is the commander of your entire organization, after all. She has to be extremely powerful, like off the chart strong, right?" he gestured, laughing uncomfortably. "Would someone even as strong as you be able to defeat her?"

She did not answer immediately; past her hard gaze Tsukune thought it looked like she was mulling the question over, uncertain despite her bold declaration. At last she said, almost to herself: "No, it doesn't matter. She wouldn't dare break her promise…"

"Her promise?"

She blinked, as if just reminded he was still there. "Never mind, it's nothing. It couldn't happen. I made sure she…agh, just forget it! Come on, we have a ways to go to get back to the ship."

"The ship?" He decided to press her more on the subject later. "That's got to be well over an hour away. We'll barely get any rest if we walk all the way back."

"Got any better ideas?"

"We should at least look for a place, shouldn't we? A motel, a bed and breakfast, something? Oh, wait…" He hesitated, remembering who he was talking to. Perhaps he shouldn't mention this, he thought, but hell, it was fairly obvious. He said, guardedly, "There would be other people there. Humans, that is. But come on, Akuha, even you have to admit, it's better than trudging all the way back at this time of night."

Truth be told, he expected an argument on that point. He expected her distaste for his species to be so consuming that she would eschew any location where they might be gathered en masse, even if it meant abusing her feet on a long hike to the airship. What he did not expect, however, was for the vampiress to blink once, twice, then, slowly, as if it strained her neck to do so, nod in acquiescence. "Yeah, fine. We can look around a little. Well, what are you staring at? You said you'd been here before, didn't you? Lead the way, then."

And so, they made their way down the quiet streets, the darkness around them broken by rows of solemn lamps and stark moonlight above. Tsukune was still half in shock at Akuha's willingness to stay in a place populated with humans. Then again, he considered, he had seen it plain as day, there in the glow of the lamp: the whites of her eyes were tinged red, bloodshot, evidence that she was fast approaching her limit of consciousness; he knew if they did not soon find lodgings for the night, she would collapse where she stood.

With this in mind, he searched. Some years had indeed passed since his last trip to this town, and the darkness complicated further recognition of his surroundings. They passed a few people out for a late night stroll—apparently there was a local festival beginning the next day, and visitors like these folk had already begun pouring in—but none proved helpful upon questioning.

So the search continued, with dismal results. They did happen upon an inn at one point, but it was fully booked for tomorrow. Tsukune glanced at his watch. Over half an hour had passed. He darted a furtive glance at the vampire to his side; for better or worse, she had remained mostly silent the whole time, though this did not surprise him. She looked more out of it by the minute, and at last it became clear she was at the end of her rope. Tsukune grimaced: what the heck were they supposed to do?

To her credit, Akuha, even in her current state, never lost her cool, confident demeanor. She was exhausted, but showed no hint of complaint or weakness, not even allowing herself to stumble or lag behind her human companion as they searched to no avail. At least, not until he glanced at his watch, the two of them now having walked quite some way: all of a sudden, beyond her control, her eyelids drooped, falling shut like heavy blinds, and before she realized it, her foot had caught the curb, and down to the pavement she tumbled with a shout.

"Akuha!" Tsukune called out. He had been several paces ahead, but now turned back sharply. Without hesitation, he offered his hand to the fallen assassin. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dusting herself off, she then brushed the hand aside and made to stand, wobbly, on her own. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

Tsukune was strongly unconvinced. Watching her, Hayate's words suddenly returned to him.

_A favor._

_Favor? What do you need?_

_I—well, it might sound silly to you, but, ah…watch her, will you?_

_Sorry?_

_Miss Akuha, I mean to say._

_What do you mean, watch her?_

_We both know how hard her sister's disappearance has been on her. I think she's barely gotten a wink of sleep since then._

_Yeah, I've kind of noticed…_

_Just…keep an eye on her for me, okay? Make sure she doesn't overdo it? And if possible, try to get her to catch some shuteye soon? She needs it, desperately._

_But Hayate, don't you think you'd have better luck with that than me?_

_Heh, believe me, I've tried. But coming from me, she thinks it's just gratuitous fussing on my part. Always does._

_I don't think I'll have much better luck. I'm not exactly her favorite person. _

_Hey now, take some credit. That may be true, but look how much you've already helped her._

…

_I'm not asking you to be her babysitter, Tsukune, don't worry. Lord knows she doesn't need one. Just…ah, just keep an eye, would you? Please._

Tsukune had given his agreement then, although he hadn't given it much thought since departing the ship. Now, however, seeing her rise clumsily to her feet, it was not something he could ignore. He sighed, unsure what to do. Akuha needed rest – they both did, given the late hour, but her especially. But where could they feasibly go? They stood at an intersection, a solitary car driving by, a row of pine trees across from them, a quaint little park at their backs. Tsukune turned his head aside from the glare of the oncoming headlights; his gaze narrowed on the park, a pleasant sight to be sure, with a glassy pond that even from this distance he could see perfectly reflected the moonlight, an ethereal glow emblazoning the water's surface. Such picturesque scenes, however, did not currently garner his primary attention. This was instead given to a small stone bench sitting beside the park's boundary.

It was a silly idea that struck him, then, little more than a whim. Surely that could not be sufficient, he told himself. Uncomfortable, most likely, and potentially unwise to boot – although, he did remember this to be a safe neighborhood from previous visits. Besides, it wasn't like they had other options, right? He craned his neck, beginning to give actual consideration to the matter.

"Hey. Hey! You alive?"

Akuha's voice cut through the air. A moment later, Tsukune turned back her way, hesitation written in his expression. He struggled for his next words. "How about that bench there?"

"Huh? What about it?"

"We could spend the night there, I guess." He laughed nervously at her expression of disbelief. "I know, it's not ideal. But, otherwise we'll just be walking all night."

She eyed him curiously, and despite her misgivings, quietly agreed to the suggestion. Tsukune imagined under ordinary circumstances, there was no way in hell Akuha Shuzen would sleep on a park bench; thankfully, he had again received no argument.

Exhaling loudly as he plopped down, he stretched his legs, feeling the muscles groan with heavy use. Akuha joined him, taking a seat silently on the opposite end, her eyes already half closed, despite a visible struggle to keep them open.

"Akuha," Tsukune said softly, "you should really try to rest a little. You look like you're about to pass out. You haven't slept much at all lately, right?"

Reclining, she let her head dangle over the back of the bench. "Jeez, you sound like Hayate, you know that?"

"Well, he did say he was concerned about you…"

"Oh, that. Don't worry about it, he's always that way. He's a bit of a worrywart, I think."

"I don't think he's wrong." At this point, he was looking intently in her direction, a bit of urgency creeping into his voice. The words were out of his mouth before he could even realize. "Listen, if you're worried about sleeping out here, I'll keep watch for a bit while you rest. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

Both boy and girl, unbeknownst to the other, were suddenly very much aware of the revealing light of the lampposts overhead. Both quickly turned their gazes to their laps, keeping secret from the other the faint tint of embarrassment. Akuha cleared her throat assertively, forcing some amusement into her tone. "I must look real bad if you're fussing now, too. Fine, I suppose a few winks couldn't hurt. But you better not let anybody come up and try to attack me or something while I sleep! You know what could happen."

"Aha, right, I'm sure we won't be disturbed…" Tsukune made a mental note to avoid bloodshed.

Akuha paused, contemplating. "We still have some hours before morning. We'll head back then." With that, she tucked her chin to her chest and let her eyes finally close.

"Agreed," nodded Tsukune. "I'll wake you when it's time. Get some rest." A monosyllabic grunt was her reply, and then there was silence.

Minutes passed, and very soon Tsukune heard the quiet, steady breathing issuing from his companion's lips. He glanced at her. She was most definitely out. _That was quick. Well, I'm not surprised. She probably couldn't stay awake any longer even if she tried. Good thing we were able to find this place when we did. _As for himself, his own fatigue was palpable, but he had assured her he would stay on watch for a while. Sleep would have to wait. Although, he supposed, it should be fine to just shut his eyes a little. He leaned back on the bench, exhaling the pent up tension of the day. His mind wandered to Moka, content with believing Gyokuro regarding her safety for now, and despite opposite intent, such soothing thoughts opened the door for sleep to slip through and claim him as well. Before long, the boy was out like a light.

It was a gentle stirring that awoke him. He opened his eyes, still clouded with sleep: it was still quite dark. He couldn't have been asleep more than a few hours, he figured. Wondering what he had felt rustling, what had dragged him out of his dream, he made to check his watch. His attention was immediately pulled elsewhere. Blinking, he shook to his head lightly, as if it was just his imagination. But, sure enough, Akuha's head remained firmly nestled in his lap.

There had already been countless times throughout his life where a hundred fears shot through Tsukune's mind in an instant, and there would be many more to come. Times when he had feared for his life, times when he feared for the lives of those he loved, or simply times that had brought a nervous fluttering to his heart, and sweat to his palms. In this moment, it was some gut-churning combination of these that he experienced. Once he had assured himself he was not in fact having a heart attack, he took a deep breath and looked down again. _I—I guess she must've slid over in her sleep… _

He wondered what he should do. Did he dare wake her? Or even try to prop her back upright? He ventured a whisper, gently wiggling his knee: "Akuha…Akuha!" Her head shook lightly on his lap, but no response came. She was lying on her side, her cheek pressed against Tsukune's lap; from his vantage point, he could see her black hair messily flung across her features, her eyelids tightening, lines traced on her forehead, her mouth in voiceless motion; almost as if, he realized, she was having a nightmare. _Never pictured her having a bad dream, _he mused. _Wonder what it's about. I hope she feels better in the morning. _Pausing, he wondered at this sudden, burgeoning concern. By any stretch of the imagination, there was nothing about their relationship that should elicit care from him, nor merit it in her. And yet, indelibly he found himself with such sentiments. Indeed, he suddenly realized he had begun to absently run a lazy finger through the girl's hair, across her temple, soothingly stroking back and forth in an attempt to calm her troubled mind.

What was he doing, he wondered? When exactly had this recent regard for her well-being come about? He retracted his hand, letting it hover uncertainly just above the mess of black hair. If he thought about it, he supposed she had somewhat endeared herself to him this past day. From the time he had barged into her room and found her a despondent shell of her usual self, to the hope he had seen flood her eyes as they had worked out a plan of action, and actually taken the first step on the path to finding her sisters. He knew all too well this woman was still his enemy, that one day, he and Moka and all their friends would likely have to face her in battle. This was not a new realization, but it was the first time it had instilled in him the slightest twinge of regret. For even in the face of everything she had done, the effect was clear even to him, that Akuha, as twisted as her actions were and continued to be, possessed a fierce devotion to Moka – if, admittedly, one blatantly more intimate than was respectable for sisters, as improper memory reminded him.

He sighed. It was a shame, that Moka would have to fight her own sister—indeed, he wondered if she had been suffering under this knowledge all along—but it was unavoidable. She couldn't be allowed to butcher all humanity, both he and Moka agreed on that.

He glanced down again. Sleep had brought a rare, simple innocence to Akuha's face, a quality which completely obscured the darkness within. He marveled at how unlike a killer she looked in this state, draped along the bench, his thigh as a pillow. He couldn't help but laugh inside, faintheartedly. Often he had imagined being like this with Moka, only now it was her sister with whom he was in such a situation. Her misanthropic, crazy big sister, who he still suspected wanted to see him dead. For the two of them to now be in this peaceful, intimate pose, it was a bitter irony. Well, he supposed it wasn't the worst they had done…_Agh, no, don't think of that now, of all times!_

Luckily for the young man, distraction came as his lap's occupant twitched again, the disturbance of her dream creeping back upon her countenance. Tsukune couldn't help himself. The way she treated him, her hatred for him and his kind; he should have taken great pleasure in seeing her so troubled. Then again, he told himself, if he was the type of person to indulge in such schadenfreude, he wouldn't have tried his damnedest to find her a place to rest, or allowed her head to remain where it had now fallen. But, alas, he had, and once more he alighted his hand by her brow, trying with a gentle touch to brush away whatever it was that haunted her.

In truth, he felt awkward, caressing her head, merely picturing how he would try to help Moka in this instance and applying it to Akuha; he dragged a knuckle across a soft cheek, and her breath hitched quietly, before a murmur escaped her parted lips: "It wasn't…Where is…"

He strained his ear to catch her words, though he might as well not have bothered, for they were strange to him. Still, he did not stop his caresses, lacing fingers through her hair delicately, massaging. This continued for some time, until eventually he began to feel his own interrupted sleep weigh heavy on his eyes and mind. Akuha seemed to have calmed, the tension fleeing her body, her breathing returning to normal, and before he knew it, Tsukune had rejoined her in slumber.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Akuha's eyes were opened to a cool, grey morning. A light wind gusted through the air, and the sky was draped with a thin mist partially veiling a pale sun. The chattering of birds filled her ears, bringing her out of her stupor. Rising, she discovered she was alone on the bench, and had been lying on her side along its full length. She wondered when she had assumed that position; surely it had been recently, as her human companion had risen and was nowhere in sight. "Where the hell did he go…?" she mumbled, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes. The nerve, she thought, leaving her alone while she slept, vulnerable in this world of mortals.

"Mommy, why's that lady sleeping on the bench?"

Akuha stiffened. That sound. That whiny, grating sound that chewed at her nerves. She watched through blurry vision the child and his mother passing by her makeshift bed, the little one pointing with high-pitched inquisitiveness.

"Don't point, honey, come," the woman said, a hushed tone indicating her desire to avoid what she thought was a destitute drifter.

Akuha's vision cleared as they passed. She shivered. It felt like a sack of cockroaches had just been emptied over her head. Ordinarily, she didn't completely hate children. They annoyed her, true, but for the most part whenever there were children in the area, she paid them no mind. But this…this was different. That child was human. Rotten, diseased, and with his mother, no less: an adult human whose hatred of ayashi like herself had fully matured. An adult human who—oh god, there were more of them. Now that she was awake, Akuha saw several other groups of people pass by, some glancing at her, but none stopping. _I-Imagine if I hadn't woken up when I did, _the Shuzen assassin thought with horror, licking her dry lips. _I might've had a knife stuck in my throat, and I wouldn't even know! _Her teeth ground together, and her nails dug into sweating palms. "That damn brat…! He left me here to be murdered, didn't he? Where is he!?"

Throwing an angry gaze about, she could not catch sight of the one human whose presence, surprisingly, she did not completely loathe. Even several minutes later, there was no sign of him returning. She did notice, however, with some unbidden curiosity, that all of the people walking by her bench appeared to be headed in the same direction. _That seems odd. _Despite every instinct she had suddenly screaming at her, she rose, stretching her limbs and smoothing her now dirt-stained coat, and began to follow the small crowds—though at a significant distance. Perhaps Tsukune had gone this way as well, she surmised. It was certainly clear he wasn't anywhere near the bench area.

She followed them down the long block, then around a bend in the road which led into the park outside of which she had slept. As she walked on, the sound of humans grew, their voices growing in number and volume. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, her prohibition on defending herself sharp in her mind. But she did not turn back, and soon enough, a vision greeted her which froze her to her very core.

This was where all those people had been going. That's right, she thought. Those people they had met last night had mentioned something about a festival, and now it looked as if she had found it. There were humans everywhere, lounging around the lake, scurrying about the occupied park; people of all ages dashing along the dirt paths from one stall to the next, seeking food, games to play, gifts for loved ones, laughter and mirth evident on the numerous faces.

Akuha wanted to throw up. Her stomach turned. A place full of these monsters, and she wasn't allowed to defend herself from any one of them. "Well, that's that," she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in resignation. "I don't care if he is here, I am _not _diving into this…this zoo!"

Fortunately, she would not have to. Hearing her name suddenly called through the hum of the crowd, she squinted until she spotted the target of her search jogging her way. He was wearing a broad grin as he reached her, and she had to resist the urge to stretch out a hand and try to wipe the stupid thing off.

"There you are," she said flatly.

"Yeah, sorry, " he chuckled in reply, "I didn't mean to disappear on you. But you were still asleep and I didn't want to wake you, and when I saw all these people heading towards the festival, I figured I'd check it out for a minute. Did you just get up?"

"Yes, I did." She stared him straight in the eye, frowning. "And not a moment too soon. Were you trying—"

Another cry cut her off. This time, however, it was Tsukune's name being shouted through the throng. A moment later, someone broke clear onto the path leading to the entrance where the pair stood. A young woman, around their age from the looks of her, huffing as she sprinted, sweating under an unseasonably thick red coat, strands of short black hair clinging to her forehead as she clomped towards them in oversized boots.

"Tsukkiii!" she hollered, waving.

The boy spun around, his face breaking into shock as he saw her. "K-Kyou-chan? Is that you?"

Seizing hold of his hands, the girl beamed. "Hi! Imagine seeing you here, Tsukki! It's been such a long time."

"I-I know. I haven't seen you since my visit home last year," he stammered, darting a gaze between the girl and his half astonished, half smirking companion (_Tsukki, _she was mouthing).

"Speaking of which, are you on a school trip, or something? I don't recognize any of your classmates—oh? Who's this?" She had finally noticed the bemused girl standing beside Tsukune, hands on her hips and staring at her curiously.

"Uh, right. This is my…" he hesitated, uncertain how to define their relationship. "My…uh, friend"—the word was strained—"Akuha. Akuha, this is my cousin, Kyouko Aono."

"Nice to meet you," Kyouko nodded, before matching Akuha's inquisitive look. "That's odd. Are you a new student at Youkai Academy? I don't remember you from the last time."

"The last time?" Akuha echoed, her interest suddenly piqued.

"Kyou-chan," Tsukune interjected, trying to change the subject, "A-are you here for the festival?"

At that, Kyouko lifted her head abruptly and pounded a fist into her palm. "Oh, that reminds me, I'd almost forgot!" Then, turning away from them, she scanned the ambling crowds silently, searching for a few moments until at last she made a noise of discovery. Raising her voice again, she called out: "Auntie, Uncle! Over here! Look who I've found!"

Out of the crowd, two figures emerged, dressed appropriately, unlike Kyouko, for the occasion, making their way over to the trio. As they spotted them, their faces lit up with joy, and as fast as their sandals would allow, they broke out into a light run. The shock returned to Tsukune's face once more; his mouth agape, he greeted the newcomers with an awkward stutter. "M-mom, Dad!?"

_To be continued…_


	14. For Want of Innocence, Pt 1

**For Want of Innocence, Pt. 1**

"Miyabi, how lovely to see you. What can I do for you today? I take it you have some news for me?"

Alone in the sub's darkened conn, Miyabi sighed in relief and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Great, we finally got through. Sorry for the holdup, chief, it wasn't easy getting a signal down here."

"Never mind that," Gyokuro waved dismissively, the torch fire behind her steadily licking up the layered stones. "I'm only interested in hearing one thing from you, Miyabi. I hope it's the reason you've contacted me."

Pausing, Miyabi's usual thin-lipped grin found its way back home. The dim, fluorescent lights tinged his complexion blue, shadows stretching around eyes brimming with eagerness. "Yeah, we're all set here. We've got our entire route planned out, and once we reach the first one…Well, yeah, you know." Gyokuro nodded passively, without expression, but Miyabi knew his superior was pleased. "And my daughter?" she asked. "Has she been cooperative?"

"Oh, absolutely. Kahlua knows better than to disobey direct orders. She's really a delightful and talented girl. Well, no surprise there, right? You did raise her." Gyokuro answered that with a flash of smile as falsely sweet as her subordinate's tone. "She will make some man a very lucky husband, one day," he finished.

The woman laughed, a quick bark of amusement. "We shall see, Miyabi, we shall see. Never mind, of course, the fact that I have yet to select a suitable candidate of proper breeding and ability. Such exemplary men are hard to come by, even among us vampires."

There was a pause, almost deliberate, between them. Miyabi's keen eyes scanned his commander's face, examining for hints, for signs of purpose and disposition. Then, inclining his head slightly, he said, with perfectly poised humility: "Then perhaps, if it's not too presumptuous for me to suggest, you should try guiding your search elsewhere, ma'am?"

Another silence. But not without understanding – Gyokuro suspected what intent lay behind such wheedling words. She smiled, with sincerity this time. Then, coyly: "I don't know. If I cannot find one within my own race that is suited for my daughter, where else could I possibly hope to succeed?"

Miyabi shrugged, then, satisfied for now with the conversation's course, said: "You never know. Although, I bet if you keep your eyes open and stay vigilant, you'll definitely find someone worthy."

A slight pause, and still a smile. "We shall see."

Miyabi chuckled cheerfully. "Indeed, yes! Well, putting all that aside; I just wanted to inform you of the current situation. Oh, and I'll be leaving the others in charge here, briefly. Just got a quick stopover to make, like you suggested."

Gyokuro nodded. "Excellent, you have my thanks. I'll await your opinion on that as well." As she made to disconnect the line, she checked herself, remembering, and asked: "Oh, one more thing, Miyabi. How is your captain faring?"

At this, a grimace, and hands clasped with a show of anxiety. "…Not well. He came down with another fever a couple of days ago, and has been out of it since. I can't imagine he'll be fit to return to duty anytime soon."

"Perhaps it's for the best," Gyokuro droned. "After all, he was never quite so loyal as you. With what we're aiming for, I often wondered if he was someone dependable, who I could trust to carry out this mission."

The grin returned to Miyabi's lips. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing, ma'am."

Gyokuro leaned back, sighing, and the thick, jeweled necklace jingled. "Well, in any case, give him my regards. I hope he does not suffer too much longer."

"I doubt he will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of."

"Yes….Very well. Contact me again with your next update. Until then." Then the screen winked to black.

Exiting the room, Miyabi was relieved. That had gone quite well, he thought. He had cast the lines, and Gyokuro, thankfully, had not swum by unheedingly. That was enough for the moment. No need to rush such things. _Well, not all of them, anyway. _There was at least one matter he could deal with right away, that was actually long overdue. Crossing a few of his crew in the corridors, he nodded at them cordially, making his way steadily to the quarters where his ailing captain lay alone.

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"M-mom, Dad!?"

Tsukune stood at the park gate, mouth agape at the familiar faces now rushing towards him up the stone path. Rushing, that is, as fast as the milling crowds allowed. To the side, a pair of children brushed past Tsukune, one chasing the other with a stick in faux attack, both laughing. The sun, gradually hoisting itself up behind the trees, rising from the clearing mist like a flare, mischievously threw its rays like blinding darts through gaps in the leaves, bringing Tsukune's hand up to shield his parents from view. Absent sight, the next he knew of them came as he felt himself suddenly wrapped in a fierce, clutching embrace, smothering nostrils and mouth. He recognized the scent of his father's freshly pressed kimono, his mother's delicate perfume, and any care of breathing vanished.

"What are you all doing here?" he asked, though muffled against the cloth, it was totally inaudible. They released him from their arms, and he repeated the question.

"Oh, Tsukune, have you forgotten?" his mother asked. "Don't you remember us coming here when you were younger for the festival?"

"N-no, I do…Sorry, it's just a little overwhelming to see you all so suddenly."

His father smiled. "Well, your mother and I decided it had been too long since the three of us drove down for the celebration. And with you away at school, we asked our favorite niece to accompany us."

"Hah! Thanks, Uncle Koji. Tsukki, it's so great to see you! Come on, let's look around. We're all here, so it'll be fun! Your friend can come t—huh? Hey, where did she go?"

It suddenly became apparent to Tsukune that in the confusion, Akuha had vanished without a trace. He wondered if the presence of so many humans had finally caused her to retreat, to skulk off somewhere nearby, alone.

"She?" Koji echoed, smirking. "You have a 'she' here? Did you hear that, Kasumi?"

"Oh! Is it that lovely Moka girl, Tsukune?"

"N-no, mom, it's just a…a friend, I guess. I don't know where she went…."

"Should we look for her, Tsukki?"

His first instinct was to refuse. He was still somewhat overwhelmed. After everything he had been through lately, the dark fear and chaos into which his life had been thrown, a prison, and he the prisoner – now, at last, here was a welcome respite, a lull in the storm for him to breathe as freely as the wind whistling past under advancing clouds; he was surrounded, against all odds and belief, by his loving family, absent in his life this past year, and sorely missed, particularly given his new circumstances. For a shining moment, he almost forgot about the cumbersome chain around his neck, tethering him still to the darkness.

But he knew this pause in the game was, unfortunately, just that. He was stuck to Akuha, for better or worse, without escape, till-who-knew-when do they part. Besides, he admitted, it was probably best for everyone here not to let her roam among these people on her own. The risk of an incident was not one he was willing to take. And so he agreed, with trepidation, that his companion should be found.

Fortunately—or not: Tsukune's perspective was not fixed—it was not a long search. Strangely enough, he spotted Akuha just several paces away, perched like a hawk up in a tree off the side of the path, reclining against the bark from a position overlooking the festival ground – a position her mind had no doubt calculated as strategically placed for observation of any potential "dangers" below, Tsukune thought ruefully. Trying to disregard his sudden disturbing attunement to the workings of her mind, he approached her lookout, the others at his back, staring up and squinting at the figure their Tsukune was calling to.

He sighed. "Akuha, what are you doing?"

"Too many humans," she said brusquely. "Let me know when you're done here, Tsukune, so we can go back."

"Did she say 'humans'?" Kyouko whispered to her aunt and uncle. Kasumi, however, merely adorned a warm smile and said: "Why don't you come down, dear? I promise we don't bite. We love meeting Tsukune's new friends." Then, under her breath: "As long as they don't run around our house half-naked…"

Tsukune could see, however, that the girl remained unconvinced. "Come on, Akuha. They're my parents. There's nothing to freak out over."

"You think this is me freaking out?" Akuha snorted, and Tsukune had to admit she had a point. He had seen how she could get, and this reaction was actually pretty tame. Nevertheless, his mother leaned in and murmured: "She seems awfully shy. Is she uncomfortable around strangers, Tsukune?"

Then, Koji, with a put-on, but well-intentioned air of sagacity: "Poor thing. She might be afraid of social interactions, and meeting new people. We should try to look as non-threatening as possible, to make her feel safe to approach us."

Kyouko rolled her eyes. "Mission accomplished on your end, Uncle. Hey, you, Akuha, was it? Hurry up and come down. I want Tsukki to join us at the festival."

Akuha narrowed her eyes at the girl speaking, a summing look. For a human, she thought, this Kyouko had a bit of fire in her eyes, and a nerve to so casually address her. Then again, she was related to Tsukune. And while it was likely the girl didn't know she was in the presence of a mighty, high born vampire, still, could none of them sense the authority she exuded? That they stood before one who, if not for annoying, arbitrary restrictions, could grind them into sand under her boot? "Take him, then," she said with a wave. "As long as you bring him back here afterwards, I don't care how he wants to make a fool of himself."

Tsukune made to respond, but stopped, his peripherals drawing his attention to the darkening clouds overhead. The breeze he had felt before now intensified, and a strong gale whipped forward through the boughs, rustling the new leaves.

The others noticed it as well. "Looks like rain is coming," Kasumi murmured.

Kyouko was not pleased. "Whaaaaat? Aw, damn, that means they'll probably cancel it," she moaned, looking back at the festival behind them.

While Tsukune was similarly disappointed that a day at a festival with his family was about to be cut short, he noticed abrupt movement up in the branches at the mention of rain, and heard a muttered "Shit" from the girl residing there. Then it hit him.

_Oh, yeah. Vampires…Water…Uh oh._

Instantly, worry spread through him like consuming wildfire. Strong as she was, surely Akuha wasn't immune to the weaknesses common to her sister. Her alarmed reaction confirmed this; natural water showering her skin would be a severe problem. Tsukune did not cherish the idea of having to explain to his parents and Kyou-chan why his new friend was burning alive before their eyes. Nor, by this point, was he wholly unconcerned for her safety; try as he might to feel otherwise, he realized he didn't want something fatal to happen to Akuha.

Not that he could do anything to prevent sheer accident: Akuha was a slender young woman, but it turned out the branch serving as her nest was ill-prepared even for her weight. With a groan and a snap, it broke from the tree, plummeting to the ground, and the girl with it. Amid the confused shouts and gasps, Tsukune rushed over and helped her to her feet, sliding her arm over his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Kasumi asked, moving forward now, concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine," Akuha said, glancing at Tsukune. He should know such a weak fall wouldn't hurt someone like her, though her head would be spinning for a few minutes, she admitted.

Tsukune, however, was merely grateful for the excuse to get her out of the looming shower, as well as…"Dad, is the car nearby? We could let her rest her foot on the way home."

All eyes were suddenly on him. "What?" Kyouko gaped. "You wanna come back with us, Tsukki? What about the rest of your class, and school?"

"We're not here on a class trip, Kyou-chan," Tsukune answered, smiling. "I'm actually…on break, you see."

His mother frowned. "Really? I've never heard of students having off this time of year."

"It's a special school holiday," he offered, hoping they would accept the lie. Thankfully, without many more questions, they did, and they were soon at the park's exit, leaving behind the tents and stalls which had indeed begun to close up shop. Tsukune's parents' car was parked just a couple of blocks away, so it wouldn't be too long a walk, although with Akuha still feeling a sharp sting in her ankle, and forced to lean on Tsukune for support, their going was a bit delayed. It was only a few minutes later, in fact, as they made to cross an intersection, that the rain finally gained on them; turning, Tsukune could see the downpour cascading forward like an army of needles. Another second and Akuha would be drenched.

He moved instinctively, without a second thought. Yanking off his overshirt, wincing at the bite of the cool gale, he flung it haphazardly over the vampiress' head, eliciting a muffled shout of surprise underneath. And then, he was soaked. At a noise to his rear, he looked to see his cousin and father fixing him with devilishly intrigued grins. His mother, however, flickered her gaze between him and his obscured companion—who herself now struggled to regain her bearings under necessary cover of darkness—with a look like concern.

But nothing like this from Koji. "My, my," he chortled, "that was quite a noble thing our Tsukune did, wouldn't you agree, niece?"

The girl nodded in mock seriousness, stroking her chin contemplatively. "Indeed, Uncle, it was. And quite a sweet gesture, at that."

At this, Tsukune gave a start. "Wait, huh?"

"Kasumi, did you see? I think there might be something between our son and this young lady."

"Aww, that's so sweet, Tsukki. Giving her your shirt so she won't get wet?" She batted her eyes at him innocently. "I never expected you to be such a romantic. I guess that means you went and got yourself a girlfriend here?"

"What? No way! Lay off, Kyou-chan, it's nothing like that."

But alas, despite his denial, they kept up their merciless ribbing all the way to the car – Kyouko even inquiring chirpily if she could attend the wedding. Through it all, beneath the sodden shirt, only lifting it high enough for visibility in the downpour, Akuha kept pace without a word, silent as a cloaked wraith. Tsukune's mother remained mute, too, only occasionally sparing a glance at her son's new friend.

Several minutes later, and they were all packed like sardines in the family car and on the quiet drive to the Aono household. Quiet, at least, partially; Kyouko maintained conversation with her aunt and uncle, but, seeing how utterly sleep wasted Tsukune and this Akuha girl were, the three of them allowed them a chance to rest on the ride home, keeping their tones hushed and muttered, not an easy task for Tsukune's lively cousin. Although, even had there been zero noise, rest would not have come easy to him, sandwiched as he was between Kyouko and Akuha. He had surmised it was best to take this position, as there was no way in hell the latter would accept being squished between two humans. It was a sacrifice that was better to make. As for the Shuzen assassin, he was surprised she did not insist they return to the ship; he figured she had been too unnerved by her near rain encounter to protest at the moment.

So it went. Tsukune was eventually able to drift off, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes later that he was opening his eyes to a heart-warmingly familiar sight.

He was home, and in very short order, after asking the others if they would mind, upstairs taking a warm shower, letting its welcoming comfort envelope his mind and, for the time being, wash his worries away.

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Downstairs, meanwhile, the others were situated in the Aono's living room, an awkward silence filling the air. Koji had suddenly been called away on some business emergency, leaving the three women alone with each other, waiting for Tsukune to return.

"Jeez, that Tsukki," Kyouko huffed from a wide reclining chair. "He's barely back a minute and he bolts upstairs to take a bath. I haven't seen him in ages, and he can't even spend a little time with his favorite cousin?"

"He's just happy to be home," her aunt offered from the adjoining kitchen, smiling.

"Yeah, I'll bet. He looked like he wanted to kiss the ground when we pulled into the driveway. You'd think he'd been lost at sea for years, or something."

While they so conversed, Akuha lay sprawled out on the couch, regretting her silent acquiescence at Tsukune's request to leave her there while he quickly showered. What the hell was she supposed to do with these two hens here? She could practically feel their searing gazes on her, penetrating her, evaluating her strengths and weakness as if in preparation for attack—although, when she would glance their way, their attention seemed to be elsewhere.

At last, however, Kyouko did turn to their house guest, as Kasumi rose to go put something together for them, and with an audible curiosity, asked: "So what's your story?"

Opening an eye, Akuha tilted her head to address her. "I have no story."

"What? Come on, that's not an answer. There must be some reason you were alone with my cousin out there. Spill it."

"Kyouko, be polite," Kasumi said sternly from the kitchen.

"I am being polite. But this is a new friend of Tsukki's after all, right? She might even be his girlfriend. We should get to know more—"

"Girlfriend?" Akuha interrupted with mild surprise. "How amusing."

"What's amusing? You must be going out with him, right?"

"Going out?" she echoed again, this phrase being foreign to her ears, although she had some idea given the context.

"Yeah. I didn't really get a chance to ask you back at the festival, but I'm still curious. You're a student at Tsukki's school, aren't you? Have you known each other long?"

"Oh, that's right, you mentioned having visited there before, didn't you," Akuha stated, suddenly remembering.

"Right, for the school festival last year. I was going to visit Tsukki and it just happened to coincide. Actually, I had a blast! Are you guys hosting another one this semester? I'd love to go again."

"You…had a blast?" The vampire was somewhat alarmed at this new information, and twisted her body into a sitting position to stare at the human girl. "You went to the academy's fair….How are you still alive?"

Kyouko tilted her head, confusion leaping into the bright eyes, crystal clear like sunlit water. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I mean how did someone like you survive?" Akuha's tone was incredulous. How did this human not get eaten by an ayashi?

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?" Kyouko retorted, taking Akuha's words as insult. She puffed herself up proudly. "Don't get so rude with me. I'm still the one asking the questions here. So, back to you and Tsukki. How about it? Have you guys had sex yet?"

A sharp intake of air was her response, though it came not from the shocked, saucer-eyed girl, but from her aunt behind her. Luckily for Kasumi, the tray of snacks and tea she had been carrying over to the girls remained, albeit shaken, in her grip; unluckily, of course, that she had had to be present for that little remark.

"D-don't be ridiculous," was all Akuha could stammer. Her eyes dashed over to the woman who was Tsukune's mother, and felt her own cheeks begin to flare red in reflection. This was unacceptable, her mind screamed. She had to make a break for it, fast. Her tongue reached for the first excuse that came to mind. "Where's the bathroom around here?" she demanded, as imperiously as possible.

Still in a mild state of shock herself, Kasumi lowered the trembling tray to the table and graciously directed her guest where to go. Akuha was out like a gunshot.

Up the stairs she flew, halting at the top to get her bearings in this unknown territory. It was down the hall to the right, the woman had said. Akuha sighed as she trudged in that direction. Already she had been caught violently off guard. By a simple question, no less. Still, she wondered, how should she have responded? The short-haired girl called Kyouko surely wasn't wise to any of her cousin's recent going-ons, and she couldn't actually suspect he and she had ever been horizontal playmates. It was a question born of familial overzealousness, nothing more.

One that happened, as a matter of fact, to be true. It had been an isolated incident, merely one solitary night, but she had indeed provided Tsukune his first foray into the world of carnal pleasures. And what of it? She didn't see why she should hesitate to share this information with his family if asked. It had no cause to bother her, and yet…Here she was, fled like a frightened mouse to escape uncomfortable inquisitions. She turned the corner, beginning to chide herself for allowing Tsukune to drag her there unopposed. Rain or not, she should have just waited it out, then returned to the airship as planned. Which reminded her, she would need to message Hayate soon, and bring him up to speed on this unfortunate change of circumstances. _A month, _she scoffed. _I hope he's not expecting me to stay here for a whole month, no sir! _As she grumbled silently, she reached the bathroom door, and absently, with a twist of the knob, pulled it open.

Perhaps, had she not been so preoccupied with her own frustration, it would have struck her sooner: as she was imminently to discover, she had not navigated Mrs. Aono's instructions correctly, having turned the wrong way at the start of the hall. Instead, then, of finding the empty bathroom she sought, she now flung open the door to a toasty, steam-choked room, so thick as to make the interior opaque. But Akuha was barely afforded the time to even register this sight, for almost simultaneously, the person within had been exiting himself, and now, instantaneously, as she stood beneath the mantle, the two thonked right into each other. With a startled yelp, Akuha lost her footing, and her world was abruptly flipped upside-down.

She realized, a few moments later, as she took air back into her winded lungs, that she had landed unceremoniously on her back. Her vision swam, then, clearing, cast into focus the looming visage blocking the light above her. She felt warm, and suddenly damp as a few last droplets of water struck her clothes, streaming down her sleeve. Even in the shadow, her keen eyes didn't miss the stunned fear in the boy's countenance, or the heavy gulp that passed through his throat. Tsukune was naked, from the waist up, at least, his broad chest plain in Akuha's view. His toweled leg had landed between hers, parting them, her dress riding up her pale calves and knees, but the strain had unraveled the tuck, and the towel slid to the floor at his feet. He was completely bare before her, partial erection pointing straight between her thighs like a spear primed for striking.

"U-um, I-I was just…." It was all he could force from his lips. But Akuha barely heard it. Her eyes were too busy wandering. There was no denying it. Human or not, Tsukune had the physical form to rival some of the legendary vampires of old. Images of their previous fuck session flashed before her eyes, an easy task with the boy as naked as he had been then. Her blood ran hotter, and a hungry ache stirred in the pit of her belly, and with it, much more significantly, a long-missed sense of power. It surged into her as if she drank from Tsukune. Too long had she been absent any whisper of the control and dominance to which she was accustomed. Ever since Moka had vanished, (though, she wondered, maybe even before then), she had been feeling uncommonly helpless when it came to certain matters, and as the time passed they had only piled on all the more, drowning her in a debilitating swamp. But here, and now, at least, this matter was one in which she still held clear power over the human—and one she had not been forbidden to use to her advantage, to boot. With this in mind, she moved, her hand slinking forward with catlike grace, and seized hold of his cock. Her fingers wrapped around the shaft, firmly. She could feel it pulse, and stiffen in her grip. Her eyebrows perked at the noise the boy made at the contact: a quiet whimper. She smirked in satisfaction. Yes, here was power, alright. "Aiya," she said softly, "eager, are we?"

"I-I was just—shower, and—you, and—bumped you down." The poor boy could hardly form a complete sentence. Most of his brainpower had become occupied by more basic instincts. Terror, for he was not ignorant of the damage the vampire could do to that most precious of areas she now held; a growing carnal desire as he stared at the ravishing woman pinned beneath him, crimson eyes wide, then narrowing with interest, the wild black hair splayed out in a tousle around her head, her breast rising with hastened breaths, the elegant neck and cheeks painted with the pink hue of excitement. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the expected anger seemed absent from her eyes.

Normally, even she would admit, such a situation would indeed rouse her wrath. And yet, rather than rage, what she felt was the rapid ebbing of any hesitation about flipping Tsukune over, kicking off her underwear, and sinking her slit onto his thick slab of meat, driving him in to the hilt and letting his girth fill and stretch her tight, craving channel. She gave an experimental tug, eliciting another soft groan, and licked her pink lips. Perhaps she had avoided it long enough; her senses were feeling as overwhelmed as a small boat trapped in a wild storm, any concerns she retained being shouted down and choked by a vehement insistence to just go for it.

Go for it, that is, until in the corner of her eye something suddenly drew her attention. Turning her head, she merely voiced a flat "Oh" at the sight of Tsukune's cousin staring at them from the top of the stairs; though she was slanted sideways from Akuha's reclined viewpoint, the girl's look of thunderstruck shock was unmistakable. Tsukune noticed her just a second later – Akuha noted with interest he didn't wither in her still clutching hand, despite the audience. "K-Kyou-chan," he stammered, voice ragged. It was all he could say. Akuha thinned her lips. These two were definitely related, she thought. Stick 'em in a situation with nudity involved, and they'd freeze like a deer caught between a ring of vampires. Kyouko's jaw was so wide Akuha expected it to snap off at any moment; her eyes looked ready to pop from their sockets, and there was a discernible tremor in her hand. "Tsukki," she squeaked, "what are you….?" She trailed off, silent again.

A few moments passed without words, until eventually, Akuha realized she was tired of it. She felt a spark of her old mischief returning, and she mused suddenly at how she might have a bit of fun with this girl. Still holding Tsukune in her smooth, playful palm, she met the other girl's eyes as best as the angle would allow, then, the small mouth rising into a grin, she gave the shaft a quick, toying jerk, eliciting a shared gasp from the cousins, and with a laugh, said: "Do you mind? A little privacy, please. Or did you want to watch?"

"W-watch?" Kyouko echoed, slowly backing up to the stairs again; a few more steps, Akuha noted absently, and she might be in for a tumble. "B-but, you said downstairs you two weren't…." She paused, then, without warning, spun around sharply and bolted down the steps, screaming for even the neighbours to hear: "AUNTIE, THEY'RE HAVING SEX! THEY'RE HAVING SEX IN YOUR HOUSE!"

What happened next was a blur. Not that Akuha couldn't later recall it, just that she found herself almost immediately yanked violently to her feet by a risen Tsukune, as if he were planning to dash after the girl, but then, realizing he remained stark naked, rushed quickly in the other direction to his room, returned a moment later, shirt clearly backwards, grabbed her hand and with almost inhuman vigour dragged her with him down the stairs, yelling Kyouko's name.

A few minutes later, and all but Akuha were seated: Tsukune and Kyouko were on the couch to either side of Kasumi, trying to fan her off after she had nearly fainted at her niece's report, now sipping at cool water; the vampire stood and paced, too pleased with her new taste of old power to pay much attention to anything else.

"Sex education…." Kasumi was muttering. "I told him you needed sex education!"

"What?!" Tsukune blurted, completely mortified. "No, mom, it's not true! Nothing was happening!"

"Don't lie, Tsukki," Kyouko chided with a frown, her brows twisted together. "I saw you two, and just in time! How could you be so shameless, and with the two of us right downstairs?"

"K-Kyou-chan, you got it all wrong! Yeah, I was lying on top of her nak—in _that _position, but—Akuha, tell them!"

"Hm?" The assassin paused in her pacing; clearly she had not been paying attention. "Tell them what?"

"That it was just an accident," he growled. "That we weren't having—anything."

She stared blankly. She took note of how Kyouko and Kasumi turned to her questioningly, while Tsukune continued to blush indignantly as he demanded she answer. They were all waiting on her. A slow grin returned to her lips. Why not have still more fun with them, she thought. "An accident?" she echoed, affecting a wounded tone. "Aiya, how cruel of you to say that, Tsukune. Here I thought you were seized with passion at the sight of me, inflamed to raging desire till you could no longer hold back your unbridled craving for my body!"

He wouldn't have thought it possible, but the blush on Tsukune's face deepened. "W-what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"There's no need to pretend," she crooned. "They might as well learn sooner or later."

Desperate, Tsukune gestured fiercely. "Guys, I swear it's not true! Kyou-chan, quit looking at me like that! Mom—no—calm down, mom."

Kasumi's eyes had bulged at Akuha's vivid declaration, sweat clinging to her brow, her stomach and mind churning alike. She attempted a few calming breaths, failing at first, but eventually gaining a hold over her spinning head. "I should've known this was coming."

"Come on," Tsukune protested, "you can't believe we were doing that, right?"

"I don't know, honey," she sighed. "I mean, what am I supposed to think? After what happened last time, with all those girls running around, it's not like it takes a very large leap of faith. Plus, you're…Well, you're at that age, you know. I wouldn't be surprised if you were having…_relations _with this girl."

"_Mom!"_

Another calming breath, and a glance at their darkly draped guest, who returned the look with one of smiling innocence. "So, you…You have…Tsukune, is this young lady your girlfr—your girlfriend?" She didn't wait for his reply, sputtering: "But what about that Akashiya girl? Oh, she was such a lovely person. It would be a shame if things didn't work out between you two."

At the mention of Moka, Tsukune's face fell; before his mother could notice, however, Akuha's voice suddenly interjected acutely. "Akashiya? You mean Moka? You've met Moka?"

Kasumi turned her way, fixing the girl with a curious look. "Hm? Why, yes, dear. Moka Akashiya. She came to visit Tsukune last fall, along with a few other friends of his from the Newspaper Club. It was an…interesting visit, to say the least. How do you know her?"

"She's my little sister," she answered simply.

Kasumi's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Really?" She turned to Tsukune, who nodded in confirmation. She paused, brows furrowing, visibly trying to sort through this jumbled overload of new information she was receiving. Beside her, Kyouko was equally silent, though she maintained a sour frown, eyes flitting between her cousin and this strange girl. Kasumi continued, trying to smile at Akuha: "Well, how's that for a coincidence?" A nervous laugh, and then: "It's strange, Tsukune never mentioned she had a sister."

"Ah, sisters, actually," he corrected. Might as well give her that much now.

"I see. And your name is Akuha, correct? Are you and your other sister or sisters also students at Tsukune's school?"

"No, she isn't," Tsukune clarified quickly. He blinked. The barest mention of Youkai Academy around his family set his mind on edge, making him desperate to leave the topic alone as much as possible. But, now that he had said as much, how could he account for Akuha? The three pairs of curious eyes were on him, waiting expectantly, including the vampire's, who herself had been about to answer in the negative. "She's a…Um, she's a…a teaching assistant," he said slowly, figuring it the most innocuous lie.

"Teaching assistant?" Kyouko echoed. "Huh, you look a bit young for…Hey, wait. You said little sister, didn't you? How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one."

Again, the widening of Kasumi's eyes. "Oh, my. Twenty-one?" Turning to Tsukune once more, she said, gently, as if carefully choosing her words: "Tsukune, don't take this the wrong way—and if you're Moka's sister, I'm sure you must be just as wonderful, Akuha—but I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to get into a relationship with such a significant age difference involved. I know it might not seem much to you, but at your age, well, you're still a teenager, and there's a world of difference between seventeen and twenty-one, sweetie. Especially if you two are already…." She couldn't utter the word, but her eyes flashed to the stairs, and her meaning was obvious.

"Oh my god," Tsukune fretted dejectedly, his palm smacking against his face.

"It's just a maturity gap, is all I'm saying," Kasumi continued to ramble on, striving to fulfill her perceived parental duties. "I'm sure your father will agree, so maybe if the two of you could think about it—"

"Mom, stop. Stop. Please stop," Tsukune tried to speak over her.

"—and that doesn't even begin to account for the risk of pregnancy—"

Tsukune turned to the vampire, her amusement evidently drawing its line at the suggestion of pregnancy, and pleaded: "Akuha, c'mon, tell her. We're not like that."

Grown sour again at the mention of breeding with a human, her previous swell of proud mischief dissipating, she folded her brows in a frown, and shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Might as well." Her voice containing little in the way of embarrassment, she flat out confessed to her teasing—though she adamantly emphasized she was _not _planning on carrying Tsukune's child—and let him explain the mishap upstairs.

"Oh, I see," Kasumi exhaled quietly when they were finished. "That's a relief. I am so not ready for grandchildren running around the house just yet." She paused, looking between the three others in the room, then settling her eyes on Akuha and smiling. "I'm sorry, what with Tsukune arriving home, bringing a new friend, and now getting caught up in all this insanity, we still haven't really been introduced, have we?" She inclined her head politely. "I'm Kasumi Aono, Tsukune's mother—as you know by now." She chuckled.

"And I'm his cousin, Kyouko." She eyed the lissom young woman warily, her natural suspicious tendencies provoked. No matter the explanation, after that image had been burned into her skull upstairs, she planned to keep an eye on this newcomer.

"Akuha Shuzen. Pleased to meet you. I'm a"—with a glance at Tsukune—"teaching assistant at Youkai Academy."

Kasumi started at the name. "I always thought that was an odd name for a school…"

"Y-yeah," Tsukune said, "It's like a theme, you could say. You know, 'a school for monsters'. It creates a pretty cool, Halloween type atmosphere all year round. You remember, right, Kyou-chan?"

"Hmm…Well yeah, I remember students running around in crazy monster costumes," she replied, stroking her chin. "Some of them even freaked me out!"

"Yes, it can be a little overwhelming," Akuha said, forming a toothy grin. Tsukune prayed they didn't catch her fangs. They didn't. "That's why I'm surprised they're letting just any old human wander onto the premises these days."

At his family's look of confusion, Tsukune blanched, going into damage control mode, laughing anxiously. "N-never mind her. She's just kidding. She's…in character. All the teachers there like pretending they're monsters and their students are humans."

"That sounds…unique," his mother replied, clearly thinking it was the most bizarre thing she'd ever heard. But she remained cordial, not wanting to offend her son's guest. "And what class do you help teach, dear?" she asked.

"Fighting!" she came back instantly. Tsukune thought it was almost as if she'd prepared that answer specifically. "It's my job to whip this runt into shape! No easy task, mind you," she said amicably, giving the boy an overly strong pat on the back. "Not with these limp muscles~"

"F-fighting? That sounds like a dangerous subject."

Kyouko, however, did not share her aunt's reservation. She bubbled with excitement. "Do you study martial arts, then? What style?"

A cheeky smirk. "Yep. But nothing you will have heard of, I'm sure."

"Try me!" the girl dared loudly.

"Very well. I instruct Tsukune in Southern Miao Jigen-do style. Not that he has much of an aptitude for it…"

"Southern…what?" Kyouko's brow arched as she ran the name through her mind, confusion registering as she came up empty. "I've never heard of that. Sounds fake."

"I assure you it isn't," came the smooth reply.

"Could you teach me some things, then?"

Akuha's eyes scanned her up and down, assessing. "No," she said bluntly. "Someone as fragile as you couldn't handle it."

Kyouko glared daggers at their guest, bolting up and cracking her knuckles impressively. "Oh yeah? Wanna see just how much I could 'handle it?'" Tsukune shook his head; his cousin had taken karate since she was little, and fancied herself a martial arts aficionado, besides. Regardless, he had the feeling if she knew just what their visitor was, she would be quaking in her boots. _Kyou-chan's only brave like this when there's no danger present._

"Please!" Akuha loosed a laugh, jumping to her feet as well. "I could drop you like an egg."

"You wish, flat tits!"

"W-what? H-how dare you! You're not that impressive yourself, mop top!"

"I don't know what I was thinking. Tsukki would never be interested in an old lady like you! Look, you've even got grey streaks!"

"They're white! And at least my hair isn't gonna get me confused with a boy!"

Advancing forward as they argued, it wasn't long before their foreheads were pressed together forcefully, both girls staring fiercely into the other's eyes and growling savagely.

"No, no, none of that here please!" Kasumi urged frantically, trying to diffuse the rising tension, inserting herself between the pair and separating them to either side. "Kyou, calm down, this is Tsukune's friend, and we must be polite. I'm sure she was just joking—um—Tsukune! Will you be staying here for your break?" she asked, turning to her son for an eager change of subject. The two would-be combatants respected her wishes, removing themselves back to their seats, and redirecting their gazes elsewhere.

"Oh, is that ok?" Tsukune blinked as he responded, inching away from the disgruntled pair; he certainly didn't want to get caught in the middle of that. "It'll be a few weeks before we have to go back. You don't mind?"

"Not at all. It will be good to have you home."

"Then, in that case," he hesitated, preparing with a deep, measured breath for what he was about to say, "Can Akuha stay, too? She can take the guest room, if that's okay."

Kasumi and Kyouko shared a suspicious glance at each other, but before either could say anything, Akuha interrupted bluntly: "Tsukune, may I speak to you for a minute?" Rising, she motioned him to follow her out into the hall, where the others would not hear them. Once she was they were out of earshot, she lowered her voice to a peeved whisper and demanded an explanation. "What, have you got a brain parasite or something? We're not staying here. I told you we were gonna hightail it back to the ship in the morning—it's past morning! You think I want to live with humans for a whole month? No. And you're crazy if you think I'm letting you out of my sight to stay here by yourself."

"Akuha, wait, listen." He held up his hands in appeasement. "I know, but will you hear me out?" The crimson eyes narrowed, holding him firmly in their grip; she didn't say a word. Tsukune took that as permission to continue. "I know this wasn't part of the plan, and if you really wanted you could drag me back without much effort. It's just…." He paused, then muttered, speaking from the heart: "How can I explain….I haven't seen my family in a while, but now I actually have a chance to be with them again. And with everything that's been happening lately, with you, Fairy Tale, and…Moka…" here he swallowed, "I just…I need some time, some breathing room. A chance to clear my head, and get away from all the plotting and scheming and wondering if my next sleep will be my last." He took a calming breath. Akuha continued to stare at him, motionless, giving no indication of her reaction. "Well, I doubt that's very convincing to you. But, Akuha…This will probably sound silly, but if in any of the time we've spent together you've come to not hate me even a little, then please…please, I'm asking you, do me this favor. I'll owe you, big, just let us stay while we wait for Strega. Who knows, you might even like it here."

He stopped, having made his plea as best he could. But still, Akuha was silent. In fact, if they hadn't been standing face to face, with her eyes locked on him, arms folded, he would've wondered if she even heard him. Her face was blank. Tsukune noticed, examining, that last night's sleep, nightmare-ridden or no, had ultimately done the girl some good. The bags under the eyes remained, but lighter now, the shadows slightly lifting; the eyes themselves had been rekindled with a spark of the old confident fire he knew was her mien. They peered into his, sharp and burning. He had seen it upstairs, too—especially there, as he had tumbled them both to the ground, lying atop her, so close he could feel her quick, excited breath break against his neck….The flame had burned bright and hot then, even extending to her touch as she gripped him in her small hand.

But now was not the time to think about that. At that moment, she broke her silence; rather than the aggressive disbelief he anticipated, her tone was softer. "I don't know….This is a _major _thing you're asking. You realize that, right? And why should I? Just so you can have a grand old family reunion while the pissed off vampire lurks around the house? That's not my idea of a good deal."

"Think of it this way, then," Tsukune blurted out, letting a hint of frustration through. "I saw how happy you were living with Moka back when you were kids. Wouldn't you love to be with her again, together with your sisters, even for only a short time?" Silence. It wasn't even in question. "It's the same for me here. Give me this, and I'll do whatever you want in return—except, like, 'help me kill someone', or something, obviously."

From the way Akuha had almost imperceptibly softened at the mention of Moka, Tsukune knew he had made a small penetration. Even so, he could tell making this decision was a struggle for her, her expression moving from doubt to wistfulness to irritation and back again. At last, however, after several anxious moments, pinching the bridge of her nose, she slumped her shoulders and let out a heavy breath. "Fine," she said crisply. "If you're going to beg me so pitifully, I might as well grace your home for a while. I will have my own quarters, right? I don't want your relations barging in whenever they please to harass me. Let's see, I'll also have to tell Hayate to send over some bundles of my purification herbs so I can bathe properly; the Ancestors know I'll need to in this place."

Nodding profusely as Akuha rattled off her conditions, Tsukune was only half listening now, too overcome with relief and gratitude at the girl's acquiescence. And so, after he had assured her of all these matters, they returned to the others. It seemed apparent that Kasumi and Kyouko had been having a discussion of their own in the interim, which promptly ceased upon Tsukune's return. After informing his mother that Akuha did indeed wish to stay, he again asked if she might borrow the guest room for the duration of his "vacation." Kasumi, however, was hesitant. The thought of this strange new girl staying for a month in such close, private vicinity to her son, when just minutes ago they had, apparently, been in an alarmingly intimate position, was putting up a wall of reluctance in her mind. She told them such.

"Your father and I will have to discuss it when he gets home," she said, sparing a knowing glance at her grumpy niece; Kyouko was still focused on Akuha and her cousin with piercing suspicion. "In the meantime, however," Kasumi continued, breaking into a smile, "Akuha, you must at least stay for dinner. We would love to have you."

She agreed, and it was settled. Kasumi excused herself afterwards, having to go to the market to get more items for their increased number of mouths. Kyouko declined to accompany her, preferring to stay and keep an eye on the two ne'er-do-wells. Not that Tsukune noticed. He was too preoccupied with trying to concoct an argument to convince his parents to allow Akuha's sustained presence. As it happened, an idea struck him just as his mother was making to depart. _Couldn't hurt, _he thought. Although, knowing the vampire as he did, it might be best not to say this in her presence, even if it was a lie. Excusing himself for a second, making a beeline for the door, he caught up to his mother just as she had set foot outside.

"Hm? Did you want me to pick up something, Tsukune?"

He shook his head. "No. Listen, I wanted to let you know about Akuha. She's…kind of proud, and strong-willed, so I didn't want to say this in front of her. But she, well, I asked if she could stay because she doesn't really have anywhere else to go." He went on to explain how Akuha wasn't on speaking terms with her family, how they had had a falling out and now wanted nothing to do with each other. The school had been her usual abode during breaks, but they were undergoing renovations and had completely evacuated the premises, so he had offered her a place to stay during these troubled times. Asking her to keep this in mind, and possibly inform his father as well, he saw her off. As she drove away, Tsukune took in a deep breath. He really didn't like lying to his parents; God only knew how many he had told them today alone. Or how many he would need to before the end. He sighed, catching the eyes of a bird perched on the fence by the street. Its dark back to the boy, it croaked thickly in the light rain, now beginning to abate after the morning's heavy torrent; Tsukune clenched his fists almost unconsciously at the sound. With a sudden flap, the bird spread its grey wings and took flight, screeching to the sky, and was gone.

Shaking his head, Tsukune cast it from mind and entered the house. He had barely turned from shutting the door than, the light flashing in her eyes, he found himself face to face with his frowning cousin. Behind her, on the couch, Akuha was fiddling with her comm; Kyouko had taken the opportunity to confront Tsukune.

"Listen up, Tsukki." She was making no attempts to hush her voice. "Auntie may have believed you, but I know what I saw. I'm keeping my eye on you—both of you"—she cocked her head back, earning an indifferent glance from the other girl—"so don't go trying anything funny. Tsukki isn't ready for that kind of relationship. So even if your old man agrees to let her stay, there will be no bathing together, no sneaking into each other's rooms at night for indecent rendezvous, no—Hey, what are you smiling for? It is my job to teach you about life and the ways of love!"

"Sorry, Kyou-chan," Tsukune answered, smiling. To her displeasure, he, already taller than her, reached out to ruffle her short hair affectionately. "You're just kind of cute when you get all fussy like that."

"H-hey, quit it! I am the older one here. Me!" Her scowl deepened and reddened. Indignant, she brushed the offending hand aside and ran hers over her head. "Anyways, unfortunately I can't actually watch you at the moment. I got things to prepare – unlike some people, my school doesn't get such crazy long breaks. I'll catch up with you in a bit." With that, she turned and marched up the steps; Tsukune heard the door of her room shut behind her. Still smiling, he made his way over to the couch and Akuha, who was just now putting the comm back in her pocket.

"I just informed Hayate what's going on," she stated. "He'll bring the herbs by later, along with a couple of fresh clothes."

Tsukune turned quickly at that. "Wait, we can't just have him showing up on the doorstep. The others will ask questions."

"He's coming tonight. Everyone will be asleep, and he'll just drop the bags outside. I can climb out the window to get them."

And so, the matter was settled. With plenty of time to spare before evening, Tsukune made sure to help Akuha get settled in her room. A longer, welcome nap followed. A tour of the neighborhood was his next suggestion, though, famished as he was, he took a moment to dive into the fridge with gusto; Akuha refused anything. The tour was uneventful; the rain had ceased by this time, and most of his neighbors were not at home, a fact for which the girl was grateful. "At least there's nobody around," she said as they rounded a corner, coming in view of a quaint little playground. Tsukune recognized it as the one Kurumu and Mizore had torn to bits during their last visit, since repaired.

"I thought you'd like that," he responded.

"Still," she hesitated, "it's too cramped. Your houses here are too closely packed, and there is little in the way of breathing room or open, green spaces."

His brow raised in interest. "Oh? I wouldn't have guessed you had a preference for nature, Akuha."

She shrugged, averting her gaze from the solitary elderly woman who recognized Tsukune and waved at him. He returned the gesture. "Both the Miao and Shuzen manors," she said, "were out in the middle of nowhere. Just a colossal castle, surrounded by the birds and the trees. I grew up in such places. I like being able to find some peace and quiet where I know I won't be disturbed."

"I see." He scratched his head and chuckled. "Well, like you said, at least there's no one around to bother you at the moment."

"Too late for that," came the quip, her eye flashing towards him with some amusement.

He laughed dryly. "I'm serious. It might look cramped, but it's actually pretty peaceful around here. I don't think you'll have to worry about feeling smothered by humans. Usually most of them are off at work in the city, or their kids are at school, so they won't just be hanging around—"

"That reminds me," she interrupted, halting her motion and setting her foot on the bottom of the kiddy slide. Her eyes narrowed in distrust at Tsukune, searching his face for any sort of hidden intention. "I still have a bone to pick with you."

"Eh? What did I do?"

"You know exactly what you did," she glared. "This morning. Were you trying to get me killed or something?"

His head cocked. "What are you talking about?"

"Leaving me while I was sleeping, out in the open with all those people walking around. Can you imagine what they would've done to me had I not woken up a moment too soon? I could've been murdered! I could've had water poured down my throat before one of their little imps lopped my head off!"

"Oh, that's right, you're crazy," he said wearily, a comforting hand journeying upwards to massage his forehead.

"Excuse me?" She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Nobody wants—Look, people aren't like that, Akuha," he sighed, thankful there was no one within earshot. "They don't just want to violently kill you on sight. You've gotta stop thinking like that."

"Don't be ridiculous," she shot back. "What, you say I should drop my guard? When I've been forbidden from attacking my enemy, no less? They'd be on me like a horde in no time, after my head."

"People don't _do _that to each other, Akuha!"

She was silent for a moment, then replied, coolly: "Except I'm not 'each other', Tsukune. I am not one of you."

"That doesn't matter," he protested. Why did these deluded fears persist in what seemed like an otherwise intelligent and capable person?

She cut him off, quieter now. "It does. I am a vampire. It makes all the difference in the world. Can you honestly tell me your history isn't full of stories glorifying the slaughter of my kind, and other ayashi, too? I'm sure you must know by now: many of those so-called legends, they were based on real incidents."

Tsukune made a noise of frustration, as if he recognized some truth in her words but struggled against them. A struggle born of necessity. He remembered her address in Yomotsu, how it had recalled in him all those tales he had heard growing up, of humans hunting and slaughtering monsters, and vice versa, that only after joining Youkai Academy had been revealed to him as not entirely fictional. She was not wrong about this. But still, he agonized, couldn't she see that this was the impetus behind his attempts, with Moka and their friends, at bringing humans and ayashi together, to reconcile with the blood-soaked road of their past for a harmonious co-existence in the future?

"I will not suffer an ignoble end like Carmilla," she continued defiantly, "or that ludicrously imagined Count in that book of yours – hunted down and butchered in my sleep, the life robbed from my breast so pitifully."

Another sigh. It was no use arguing with her once she got like this. He would not be able to convince her by mere repetitive insistence. For now, he would let it drop. "Well, I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable back there. If you're scared of being alone while we're here, I won't leave you."

Her head jerked sharply toward him, a pink hue cresting her along her face. "Don't be absurd," she scoffed. "It's not that I'm 'scared'. What I am is cautious. You heard Gyokuro. No incidents. I'm not even to defend myself from humans."

"Speaking of which, what's with that? Not that I want you to just attack anyone as you please," he firmly clarified, "but I'm surprised you're so docile when it comes to obeying her orders. I would've figured you'd just tell her to go—you know—herself, and do what you wanted anyway."

She looked at him perplexedly, and said, as if it were the most obvious thing: "What are you on about? She's the superior, I'm the subordinate. That's the way it goes, regardless of my opinion of her. Besides…" A palpable pause. A nervous catch of the lip between her teeth. "…Moka's safety is on the line this time. That's all that matters." Falling silent for a moment, her voice soon returned with renewed verve. "Plus, I can't let that old bitch think I have no self-control, or that I'm incompetent."

"No, I suppose not," he agreed kindly; her concern for Moka always filled his heart with a comfortable warmth, a sort of special hope. If only, he thought, he could somehow draw upon that love she had for her sister, use it to erase the blanketing darkness that churned in her soul….But, in the end, he conceded, it was probably a fool's errand. He could no more completely transform a person than he could fly to wherever Moka was now, much as he might wish both to be true. Thus distracted, he was caught by surprise as the sun suddenly peered out from behind a building low in the west, blinding him temporarily. It had gotten late, and they were expected.

"Let's go back," he said, breaking the silence. Akuha, who had just been preparing to see how quickly she could dash up the slide, blinked once, then shook her head clear and agreed.

They returned with the light still at their backs. Tsukune's father had come home in the meantime, while his mother had just begun to labor in the kitchen. It appeared that Koji had, without hesitation, consented to Akuha's presence, and had picked up some extra food items on his way home. Items that now, much to the vampire's confusion, Kasumi asked her to help prepare. "It will be fun!" she insisted over both of their protests. Tsukune was especially vehement; he remembered with dread the last time Moka had tried her hand at the culinary arts. _Sure, it tasted good in the end, but…Oh God, the cost! _If such a trait ran in the family….Wishing to spare his home similar torched horror, he voiced his objections. But his mother merely repeated her casual assurance, and ushered Akuha into the kitchen. Tsukune suspected it was more a sense of being a good host than anything; she wished to keep their new guest entertained and feeling like part of the family. Sweet intentions, indeed, but he would keep within close proximity to the fire extinguisher, just in case. And good thing, too; three small, containable fires later (she had just been asked to steam the rice, for heaven's sake!), with nervous sheen Kasumi cautiously relegated Akuha to chopping vegetables.

Hardly a better choice by any stretch of the imagination, thought the boy. Eschewing the notion of being monikered "Tsukune the One-Handed," he took refuge behind the counter, preparing to duck in case of suddenly projectile cutlery. As he quickly discovered, however, this wasn't needed. With superhuman speed and precision, the carrots were chopped and the yams skinned; Akuha's blade flashed across the cutting board, catching the light with each lightning-quick stroke.

_I guess it's not surprising for an assassin..._Tsukune swallowed the lump in his throat. This was not the first time he was glimpsing her skill, and far from the most serious situation, but still…_Maybe I shouldn't provoke her so carelessly. Especially if she's got a knife._

"My, my!" Kasumi was in equally clear astonishment. "I think we've found your particular cooking talent. Here, why don't you try this, next?" Akuha gave her a pleasant smile in return, and brought her attention back to her instructions: her attention, noticed Tsukune, but not her focus. Her success with the cutting had perhaps given her a boost in confidence, as she now tackled the salmon rose she had been assigned with a master chef's eye for precision and detail, slicing and arranging the slippery strips to perfection. Despite this, there was no proud glint in her eye, no sign of intense concentration in her manner; her mind, rather, seemed to be elsewhere, so much so that Tsukune marveled she never even once slipped and nicked a finger on the blade (the result of years of hard training, no doubt).

_Well, this is a strange place for her, and we're going to be staying for a while. She must still be trying to get herself oriented. _With that thought, he made to help his mother with the rest of the preparations, and eventually, setting everyone's places. Kyoko and his father came rushing down the stairs, the latter catching Tsukune alone as he placed the last plate on the table. Slapping a hand on the boy's shoulder, he pulled him close and said, grinning: "Your mother asked my opinion on letting that Akuha girl stay, you knew that? We've both agreed you're responsible enough to handle it; you're a young man after all, Tsukune. Sooo…" Glancing around surreptitiously, he lowered his voice further. "On the way back, I also stopped to pick up a little something for you." He reached then into his pocket and slipped into Tsukune's hand a few small packets which, as soon as he glanced down at them, made the boy go wide-eyed with stupefied humiliation. "Just in case you and that pretty lady decide to, ah, go a little nuts when we're not around," he laughed merrily.

"W-well, isn't that something?" Tsukune choked out. "B-but it's like I told Mom and Kyou-chan. We're not…_together..._like that. Besides, you know about Moka, don't you? Akuha is her sister, and she just needs a place to hang out for a bit. Really, nothing's going to happen." _Although dinner will now be pretty uncomfortable, _he mourned silently.

A dinner, they were quick to discover, their new guest would not be attending. Citing an upset stomach, Akuha removed herself from the group, taking with her some fish and duck meatballs she said she would eat later, trudging upstairs to her new lodgings.

"What is wrong with that girl?" Kyouko demanded through a healthy mouthful. She swallowed. "Tsukki, at least the other ones you brought home were nice. I can't approve of this one, however." Then, rising and jabbing her finger forward to the point: "As your big sister, I forbid you from dating this girl!"

"Kyou-chan—"

"Nope. I'm putting my foot down."

Tsukune sighed. Kyou-chan meant well, and he would always love her for it, but she had, as he might put it, an underdeveloped tolerance for listening. Better to just go with the flow, when it came to her stubbornness. "Yes, Kyou-chan, whatever you say."

The girl seemed satisfied her sororal responsibility was fulfilled, and lowered herself back in her seat. "Hmph. Good, I'm glad we got that settled. So even though she's going to be staying with you, at least I know there will be no inappropriate incidents."

"Now, now, Kyou," Koji butted in, gesturing agreeably, "don't be too harsh on your cousin. He is a young man, you know, and men have certain urges they need to tend to."

"Oh?" Kasumi raised an eyebrow at her husband from across the table. "Go on. What 'certain urges' do men have?"

If nothing else, it could be said about Koji Aono that he wasn't easily fazed by what others might regard as talking yourself into a pickle. "Now, now. You know you're my only urge, honey. I'm talking about boys Tsukune's age. It's simple biology. They're ready to sow some of those wild oats, pollinate some flowers. Can't blame him too much for that!" he said with a laugh.

As abjectly embarrassing as this was to the subject of the conversation—enough to make him seriously consider joining Akuha upstairs—he found, a tad to his surprise, that it wasn't quite so bad as he might have expected. The topic aside, there was something about this scene that plucked the right strings in his chest, sending warm, soothing sensations radiating throughout his body. He recognized the cause easily enough. It wasn't complicated. The long-missed comforts of home and family overrode such trivial discomfort with little resistance; indeed, it actually seemed to make him appreciate it all the more.

"Let's not be giving him any ideas," Kasumi mumbled from the corner of her mouth. Then, her tone growing more serious: "But, really, I don't blame her." She was referring to, as she had earlier told her husband as well, what Tsukune had said about the necessity of Akuha's visit. "Her usual home at school gone, and such a heartbreaking situation like that between her and her family….It's not surprising she would be a bit withdrawn around us. Tsukune, I want you to make sure she's comfortable while she's here, okay?"

"Yeah, I know. I can be a good host, Mom. And _nothing—_" he gave them all a firm, pointed look "—is going to happen between us."

"Don't forget what your mother is saying, though," said Koji, wiping his mouth calmly. "I would suggest showing her a bit around town, treating her to a fun time. Who knows? Maybe you can get her to warm up to us enough to join us for a meal sometime."

Such comfort, however, was not to come; indeed, Akuha refrained from eating with them for the next several days, taking her meals in her new room with the door shut tight. In fact, the door remained firmly in that position for the majority of those days, excluding excursions she would make to bathe (Hayate had brought her cleansing herbs as requested) and fetch meals. Tsukune could only guess what she was doing, or not doing, in there. Initially attempting to put in motion his father's idea, he quickly found his offer refused. He had been trying to invite her to the nearby community center where his family were members, thinking her interest might be ignited at the prospect of giving her muscles a workout. But she did not bite. It was an expected reaction, he figured: she probably didn't want to visit a place humans frequented, although, as he discovered upon arrival, it wasn't exactly packed, with people trickling in and out at a quiet pace.

"Well, her loss!" he said to himself, pulling his arm into a stretch. "If she wants to do her own sulky thing, I'm not gonna beat my head against a wall."

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Moka coughed, the echo ricocheting along the cavern walls. Moisture dripped from weeds that had crept through the cracks in the slate-colored stone, providing a sort of ambience for the journey, and occasionally finding a target on the irritated girl's shoulder. She stumbled, her foot sliding forward on a patch of sodden moss, landing in yet another icy puddle that dotted the path. Sickness usually didn't come her way, but this dark, dank space was providing her with an unwelcome test, especially in the somewhat weakened state she had become over the past week.

For it had been about this long since she had been taken from her sisters' company and brought aboard the submersible base of one of Fairy Tale's most grotesque—as she had come to view him—leaders. Or, higher officer, as he had been until recently. Miyabi had been the second-in-command for the Second Subdivision, under an ailing captain with whom he had, apparently, had several heated disagreements regarding the organization's policies and actions—so she had heard from some carelessly tossed about gossip from some of her guards, when they had thought her deep in dreams. She knew not the specifics of their contention, but it no longer mattered: the old man had been found just days ago, succumbed at last to the fever and lying cold in his bed. Though she had never even met him, Moka couldn't help but feel a brief touch of sympathy for the deceased, as it seemed like his passing had barely been pronounced than Miyabi took command as the division's leader, and immediately set them full steam ahead toward the next objective; no mourning, or indeed, much mention of the death, occurred, as far as she had witnessed. _So much for affection among comrades, _she had thought then.

This event aside, as Miyabi had initially promised, her first few days were uneventful, time passing by on that table in her cell, clad in the chains that suppressed her power, her only real company occasional visits from her sister Kahlua to bring her meals. And while the demure blonde would try to engage her in conversation, Moka was never in a particularly chatty mood. For the most part, she was left alone with her silent thoughts. Such interminable isolation, she knew, might have driven a lesser mind mad, but she had fierce strength of will, not to mention other matters which occupied her focus. One in particular: but try as she might, her voice could not reach her counterpart. Omote had all but vanished from her soul, and her initial slight concern had swollen to deeper worry. Indeed, if anything were to drive her mad, it would be this, but she kept her chin up, and her heart steadfast, and merely continued in her attempts.

Another matter there was that ordinarily might have been cause for worry. Shackled as she was, and sapped of strength, she might otherwise have been vulnerable to lusty guards seeking to take pleasure where it was offered. Nothing of the sort occurred, however. She had the sneaking suspicion that, even if the notion had crossed some of their dim heads, fear would act as their inhibitors. She had seen it. Not around Miyabi, or either of his two cohort captains; oh, the guards respected them, alright, and displayed it accordingly, but it was not when directed at these superiors that she glimpsed fear in their eyes, the terror she had come to recognize well after seeing it in so many of her own victims, just before they learned the painful mistake of crossing a vampire. Such a look only leaped with fright onto their faces when in the presence of her sister. Whenever Kahlua would come to her, Moka could practically feel the sweat running down their necks, or hear the thunderous thudding of their hearts. Of all the ayashi on this vessel, it was clear that none inspired such terror among the crew as the "Princess" of Fairy Tale. And it was this, Moka surmised, that held any potential attackers in check; for unless Kahlua had explicit commands against disciplining the rank-and-file as she saw fit, which Moka doubted, she imagined that anybody who dared try to take advantage of her would be turned into a vaporous cloud of crimson mist.

Moka would have taken pride in her sister's power and reputation, if in more normal circumstances, and if not for one disconcerting thing that drew her alarm. Indomitable as Kahlua was, she seemed to shrink like a flower without sun or water in Miyabi's presence, and on more than one occasion, she remembered with disgust, she had seen the snake's hands wander to places on her sister's body which, had it been her, would have resulted in said hands being stuffed down his throat. She broached the topic once, heatedly, with Kahlua, but had been met with a quiet denial and change of subject. Whether she simply didn't want to speak ill of her superior, or something else, Moka did not know, but she could appreciate all the better the scorn and verbal abuse Akuha had heaped upon the man, during her brief stay aboard the airship.

So the first days ran their course. Surprisingly, Miyabi took a temporary leave of his crew, departing the sub at some unknown location just a couple of days previous, leaving command to the other two captains, Lester Reilly and Volga Lagunov. Of these two she had not seen much in the beginning, or had much interaction with, either. She had come to learn, though, just what they were; odd, rare ayashi, the likes of which she had scarcely heard. The former: a bunyip, a dog-faced swamp-dwelling beast of Aboriginal origin that had, apparently, a bizarre mish-mash of monstrous physical traits. The latter: a vodnik, a water spirit that remained surprisingly human in appearance but for gills and webbed hands, and would attempt to drown swimmers and fishermen and trap the souls in their cups. It was he who had assumed control of the operation in Miyabi's absence, and he, who, if Moka had to pick a more hateful captain than Miyabi, would be the prime candidate, that sallow-faced, wire-haired goblin who made even her hairs stand on end with his shrill voice and knobby fingers. Already he had once threatened her friends with little care, and she cursed her lack of strength, having no doubt she could snap him like a twig if she was her usual self.

It was also he who now led the small group that had disembarked and travelled to this location, this close, thick-aired network of subterranean caverns through which she now plodded, feeling like a beast of burden. The werewolves who had stood guard by the entrance had been all too happy to let Kahlua return to where she had visited some months earlier, wholly ignorant of true intent. This place, being sacred to their kind, the source of the barrier around their woods and cliffs and dens, was definitely guarded, but unvisited by any of the wolves who lived in these parts.

The going was silent but for the falling droplets and plodding footsteps; no one spoke. The tunnels twisted through the earth, rising, then dropping, and again. At last they came to the exit, pale light at the end of darkness. They emerged into a grove soaked in moonlight. Tall birches lined the dirt paths, their boughs hanging over the party like ghostly frames, the leaves whispering through the night's calm breeze. As she walked, Moka saw bright flashes on the small stones that freckled the green turf, catching the moonlight and throwing it back off amongst themselves until the ground seemed like it was jeweled with stars. In the center of the place stood a shining pillar, humming with energy amid the trees, which at second glance looked as if they were bent in worship to it.

This was a holy place, the girl knew. She could just sense it. She had not glimpsed the sacred spots in either the Snow Village or Yomotsu for herself, but if they were anything like this, small wonder they were revered. She blinked her eyes a few times, to regain clear vision. The energy permeated the very night air, seeping into her clothes and flesh, throbbing with vibrant life. This was a place of light, of power, where whatever divine ancestors that walked the earth in ages past might even now still linger, watching over and protecting their children from harm. Such was the gift of the barrier.

A shrill voice interrupted her awe, reifying the scene before her once again. "We're here," announced Lagunov. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the escort back into the tunnels to stand guard, leaving just himself and Moka alone with Kahlua and Reilly.

"So, what's the next stage of your brilliant plan?" Moka inquired. Whatever it was, she had confidence that such a place could not be defiled by creatures as base as they.

At that, the man raised a thin eyebrow, turning a toothy smile to her. "Oh? I'm surprised no one's told you yet. Not even you, Kahlua? You didn't mention anything to her?"

Kahlua's pretty brows knotted together, and she addressed her sister: "You don't remember? I told you of them before, the actions we had taken across Japan—the world, actually. I didn't know any more at the time, but now….

As she spoke, something plucked at the chords of Moka's memory. She recalled what she and Tsukune had learned, there aboard Akuha's ship, about…. "The eggs!" Jerking her head sharply back to the central pillar, she squinted, peering through the gleam, and, seeing, felt a cold weight drop into her stomach. It had already been done. This, then, was another place where Fairy Tale had planted its seed, and let it bear fruit. The eggs crowded around the base of the pillar like cysts; as if they had been waiting for Moka to spot them, they now almost seemed to absorb the radiant light of the grove into their own dark masses. She felt revolted by them: tentacles that seemed almost alien flowed like grooved, black vines into each egg's smooth slate skin, under which eerie streaks of blue branched out, glowing like veins, pulsing, draining the life slowly from this hallowed ground.

"This is sick," was all she mumbled. She wondered if Kokoa and Ruby had felt this kind of nausea. Did the werewolves even have a hint what was happening under their otherwise expert noses? She had no idea if, wherever they were, this land was Gin's home, but she blanched at the thought of it being destroyed, nonetheless.

"Sick?" Again, Lagunov. "Hmph. You clearly don't appreciate beauty when you see it, girl."

She ignored that. Truthfully, she felt like hurling a good "fuck you, imp" his way, but she had more important questions. "Why are we here?" she demanded. "What do you need me for? I already told you, I won't cooperate."

"And I already told you, we don't need it. You're here, and that's all that matters. Let's get started, shall we? Lester."

At the man's name, Moka suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees. Had she had the strength, it would have been easy to resist and counter, but as she was…She landed with a thud and a grunt, the man's thick hands keeping her in place while Lagunov began circling around her, mumbling something, too softly for her to hear, but it sounded vaguely like a chant. To her side, Kahlua stood as still as the pillar, and almost as luminous, watching the proceedings with a reserved, yet nervous expression, white-gloved hands clasped together delicately at her waist, her golden locks streaming in the sudden wind like shining waves. She tried to move, but Lester's hand clutched tightly at her flesh; he was undoubtedly strong, and she winced.

"Don't hurt her, please." Moka was surprised to hear her sister speak, but even more so that, beneath the usual worried tone her voice often held, there seemed to be a spark of warning.

More than this, however, she could not dwell on, for it was at that exact moment that she felt her body seize up, stiff as a board, and freeze her in place. _W-what the hell? _She could not speak the thought. Around her, Lagunov's chanting grew louder, more brimful with energy. Her very blood seemed to pulse, and surge, and race with ancient potency; her senses began to dim until they were dominated by its seething roar, dampening and muffling all other sights and sounds around her. Distantly, as if on the horizon, the pillar glowed, regaining its light even under the eggs' draining, and the stars returned in glory to the grass, setting it alight with cool, white flame, swelling and blazing around her, bearing her up on a sea of light into the sky itself, from which boomed and crashed all around her the deafening din of gleeful chanting, like star-crested waves from the very heavens above. There was a darkness somewhere, miles below, but she paid it no heed, caught up in the rapturous drone that came to fill her entire being, tossing and turning her amid the blazing sky-bound ocean.

Something clicked faintly within her; then, abruptly, it was finished. The waves calmed, their starlight foam extinguishing; the thunder ceased, dimming to a mortal voice before falling silent; and the seas parted, dropping the girl from their waters to plummet back to the world below. With a painfully sharp gasp, she landed, and was in her own body again. She was back in the grove, the suddenly frigid air biting against her sensitive, still tingling flesh. The pillar and the rocks folded their light back into themselves as a cloud drifting below the moon. She felt drenched, first imagining it to be from the waters that had carried her above, then realizing it was merely her own body, covered in a fervent sweat. A hand was on her shoulder. Not a hard, heavy one, but soft, and reassuring. She could smell her sister's jasmine scent as the hand stroked down her back, soothingly. "Are you ok, Moka?" The voice still came somewhat distantly, as one calling from one end of a hall to another. As for her own, it took a few moments more to find it. When she did, she croaked a simple "Yeah," letting her breathing return to normal before attempting to speak again.

The next time she did, it was to demand answers. She remained on her knees, too weary to even try to rise, but no less bold for the experience.

"I suppose we can tell you now," Lagunov conceded, "since you are already part of the proceedings. What do you think, deary?" This, to Kahlua, who still squatted by her sister's side.

Moka felt her hair brush against her own as she nodded. "Yes. She deserves to know what just happened, and what we're going to ask of her from now on."

So they explained to her for the first time the entirety of Fairy Tale's plan. What she had just experienced, it turned out, was a process of synchronization. She had been brought to this place, where the eggs Fairy Tale had sown lay waiting to hatch, so that she might serve as the key to their awakening. When she questioned this, she listened with growing horror to its meaning: the eggs were the offspring of the demon Alucard, the first vampire and Shinso (the name, for an indefinable reason, quietly rang some far-off bell in Moka's memory). As the daughter of Akasha Bloodriver, she, too, possessed similarly powerful blood, the same as flowed through Alucard, who was destroyed centuries before, and through those eggs now before her. It was Fairy Tale's intent to take her to the other locations where these demonic spawns had been planted, and perform the same ritual each time in order to synchronize her blood with theirs. Then, once she had been attuned to every single cluster of eggs, her blood would be used to awaken them all at once; and in the act of hatching, the newborn creatures would drain from each of their scared hosts—such as this pillar, or the tree of Yomotsu—the remainder of their spiritual energy.

"But, when that happens—!"

Yes, Lagunov told her. When that happened, the barriers surrounding each of these ayashi homelands would evaporate into nothing, exposing them to the outside world for the first time in modern history. Exposing them, he chirped, to the humans.

Moka tried to hide her shock and fear. As devoted as she and Omote were to the cause of establishing harmony among ayashi and humans, and despite knowing Tsukune and his family to be truly good people, she could not deny the danger inherent in such a plan. She did not believe humans were yet prepared to accept those like her, if they were to be revealed to the world so suddenly and in such numbers. It was this fact, she learned, that they were counting on. Stunned and terrified by the existence of these monsters, the humans would strike, without hesitation or mercy, destroying those places and all their inhabitants before anyone could even suspect.

"Then why the hell are you doing this, if it's going to result in all those deaths?!"

"That is the point. Once the humans sate their hunger for massacre, the rest of our kind will throw their full support behind Fairy Tale and what we aim to achieve. Even the ones who currently favor humans won't stand in our way when we send Alucard's children to trample their cities to dust, eradicating them from this earth once and for all!"

She could only gape; whether it was solely the horror at this revelation, or if it was enhanced by the residue of her previous high, she could not tell, but her mouth was dry, and she felt as stiff as she had before. Her fingers dug with anger into the dirt, clogging her nails with it. Her voice was level, but wavering. "You want war with the humans…To kill them all…And you'd sacrifice your fellow ayashi to justify it?"

"Their sacrifice will be remembered, and honored," he said solemnly.

"That's bullshit!" She found she could scream now, if hoarsely. Then, frantically, to her sister: "Kahlua, you can't—! You can't allow this! I know you never disobey orders, but for heaven's sake, you're talking about mass genocides! Do you really hate humans that much to go along with them?"

Kahlua had risen, removing her hand from Moka, and now looked at her compassionately, with apology written in her eyes. "It's as you said, Moka. My orders are absolute. It's not my place to question them."

Moka was finding she had to fight to stop her head from spinning. This was all too much—too much, too quickly. She could barely even process….Her head swam with dizziness. Kahlua's hand—she recognized the touch—returned urgently to her back, the other to her shoulder, apparently trying to keep her from collapsing. But she did not care. She had to leave. She had to break free of this place, get away from these people, back to Tsukune and warn him…warn him, and the others! Yes, she had to find Tsukune right away. _Find Tsukune...Tsukune...But wait, Tsukune is with—_

"Does Akuha-neesan know?" Her voice was unexpectedly soft.

A pause, then: "Yes."

"Is that why you guys took me? Cause she wouldn't go along with you, butchering millions of her own kind?"

Lagunov laughed, a delighted cackle. "Really? Akuha Shuzen? Surely you know your sister better than that. No, that girl has no objections to this course of action."

She could not say she was completely taken aback; even so, she had harbored the faint hope it was not so. "Then why did Miyabi want me?" This, through clenched teeth.

He paused, regarding the pulsing eggs behind him, almost fondly. "The ones who lead the charge against our sworn enemy, who bring about the destruction of humans everywhere…Praise for them as heroes will be on the tongues of all ayashi. And what better praise than the mantle of Dark Lord? The mightiest ayashi whose names are spoken with awe and worship? Such an honor would be wasted on Akuha. Working together, however, the three of us…."

"So that's what you want? To be the hero who 'saved the world' to ayashi everywhere? How pitiful," she snorted. "You're mad, anyway. Two of the three Dark Lords, at least, are still alive, and weaklings like you couldn't possibly rob the titles from them."

A sudden motion forward, and with a raised hand it appeared he was going to strike her with a thick-nailed hand. She shut her eyes and braced herself, but the sting never came. She looked up; it had been stopped before descent by another hand clutching the wrist, smooth and elegant around thin skin and bone. Kahlua looked rather surprised at her own bold action, grabbing a superior officer like that. "Please don't hurt her," she said, firmly nonetheless. "She's going through enough."

Narrowing his beady eyes at her, Lagunov jerked his hand back to his side and growled: "Be sure Miyabi will hear about this offense." Nevertheless, he did not make to strike Moka again, but rather motioned to Kahlua to get her on her feet and moving. Their work here was done. It was time to go. "You will be given some time to recover," Reilly spoke for the first time, "before the next site."

"Yes," the vodnik grumbled, clearly unhappy. "Though it will drag things out far too long for my liking."

"She has to regain some strength," the bald man reminded him. "We can't have her dying in the middle of the ritual."

"No, I suppose not," came the almost forlorn reply. "Shinso or not, even she couldn't handle the strain too frequently. I suppose we'll have to stay on schedule."

And so they left the darkened grove where werewolves never wander, regrouping with the escort back in the tunnels. The others took the lead, leaving the Shuzen sisters bringing up the rear, alone. Under her breath, loud enough for only Kahlua to hear, Moka said: "This isn't over."

Kahlua could do nothing but give her another weak smile. "It is, sweetie. We'll be preparing for the next synchronization soon. Why fight it? Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise." The hand she attempted to lay on Moka's shoulder was angrily deflected. "Is it Tsukune?" she ventured after a moment. "Are you worried about what will happen to him in all this? If you'd like, I could make sure his life is spared; you could keep him as your own! Isn't that what you want—_kyaa!?"_

With a thud, she took a dive; her foot had caught in her dress and sent her sprawling face first in a patch of dirt. Several of the guards ahead rushed back to help her to her feet; when she had shaken enough clumps from her bangs to see clearly again, Moka's silver-streamed back was already leaving her behind in the dust, joining with her captors as they walked ahead.

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Thus did Tsukune spend the next few days, mostly on his own, continuing the training he had begun under Moka with weights and laps in the center's pool, spending time with his parents where they could, and Kyouko as well, for her between-class visits seemed to increase now that he was home. She even managed to free up enough time to accompany him during his workout session one evening, and although she was not much one for weight lifting, she found an equal amount of pride and satisfaction in overseeing her cousin's regimen, merely under the impression he wanted to get stronger for some punk bullies at school, rather than in anticipation of pitched battle with the fate of the human race on the line.

Of Akuha, again, he saw very little during that time. In the morning, afternoon, and evening, he would see her take the food given her to her room, with only light conversation with his family members, then exit once again to bathe, and upon returning, shut the door once more. It seemed like it should have been a relief to Tsukune: he was, for the most part, free to do as he pleased, and in his own home and neighborhood to boot; the surly vampire in the guest room left him free from harassment, so he didn't have to constantly be on guard against her stormy temperament. And yet, it was not. For some reason, her deliberate isolation started to grate on his patience, kindling irritation on his part. Was she sulking again, as she had before? Lying in bed, despondent, doing nothing but mourning Moka's absence? He needed her at her best so they could retrieve Moka as smoothly as possible, but also, strange as it felt to admit, he wanted it.

On the fourth day, he had had enough. Arriving home a bit later than usual from the center, a cold, starlit night already spread across the sky, he discovered his parents had early mornings tomorrow, and had gone to bed. Locking the door behind him and flicking off the few remaining lights as he went, he forced his weary muscles up the stairs to change his sweaty clothes and make ready to turn in himself. After doing so, he walked back toward his room, passing Akuha's on the way.

He paused in front of her door. Shut tightly, as expected, and not even a sliver of light shining out from underneath. She was probably asleep as well. Surprisingly, though, it was unlocked. A spark of frustration broke through his fatigue, and he prepared to burst in and demand explanation. But at first touch of the doorknob, a cold chill pricked at his neck, a sense of dread taking root in his gut. He did not know why, but he felt fear, something in his blood warning him to stay away. There was a darkness inside, almost palpable through the doorway, the kind he had not felt since….Nevertheless, he had dealt with such fear and danger too often to now be dissuaded. He entered slowly, creaking the door open a crack, then more, and more, stepping cautiously inside, his heart pounding loud enough that he imagined anyone nearby could hear. The room was black; if not for the faint moonlight leaking through the window, as well as his own tense, heightened senses, he probably wouldn't have been able to see his hand in front of his face. Even so, he could see little at first, just the window and foot of the bed. Pure black silence, save for his thumping chest and slow breathing. He ventured to whisper the girl's name, but found the sound catch and die in his throat. He swallowed, his nape feeling more vulnerable still, eyes darting this way and that, trying to get a clear glimpse of the room and where its occupant might be.

Swiveling to his side once more, he was suddenly face to face with a pair of burning, blood red lights, freezing his heart and lungs, shocking him back towards the window. Pale met pale as Akuha stepped into the dim glow of the moon after him, though her features, aside from her eyes and his slightly oversized t-shirt and old pair of shorts that she wore, were still obscured. "What do you want?" Her voice was hollow, yet some strange charge echoed through it, as well as, Tsukune thought he heard, a soft growl. "This may be your house, but it's still quite rude to barge into a lady's room. Come for a midnight toss in the sheets? Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not in the mood." The taunt came somewhat weakly.

"No, that's not it." He peered harder, but could not make out her form any better, even with his eyes growing used to the darkness. She remained too far from the brightest rays of the moon. "But I guess you like this room, huh? You've certainly been spending a lot of time in it."

The red glow narrowed. "What business is it of yours what I do? I am not your slave; it would do you well to remember who's in charge here."

"Look, I'm not trying to dictate what you have to do. But you're my guest here, Akuha, and my parents were right. I should at least be a more hospitable host, making sure you enjoy yourself as best I can. Why don't you come with me tomorrow? It couldn't hurt to try something unfamiliar."

She laughed; the sound did nothing for Tsukune's tightened nerves. "Right, and flea-bitten rats couldn't wipe out a third of your population."

"Don't you think that analogy is stretching it a bit?"

She grunted, and fell silent for a moment, before speaking again. "I'm going to bed now, please leave."

Not like her, he thought, to drop the subject so easily, without a fight. There was something…off about this whole scene. "Wait a second." Moving forward, he stretched out his arm to grab her own, when suddenly he felt a light pain surge through his knee as it collided with something hard. Akuha had left the garbage pail directly under the windowsill. He cursed, and, bending down to rub the injured joint, caught whiff of a very peculiar smell emanating from the receptacle. A mixture of rotten and sweet, almost. Squinting inside, he was soon shocked at the source of the odor. Rice balls peeked out at him, noodles, a speck of beef, all mixing together in a swirl of appetizing refuse. "This is….This can't be…?"

The pieces started to fit together as recognition dawned: all this dumped food before him, it was the sum total of the past few days' worth of meals. Tossed aside with nary a nibble, from what he could tell. "Akuha, have you been—?" The question was so bizarre he couldn't even finish it. Yet, here was the evidence. "But, why?"

"Why?" She had stopped, and now stood half-turned from him, so that he could only make out the side of her face. "I'd think it would be obvious. It occurred to me that anything prepared by human hands carries with it great risk; without my usual chefs here, I can't trust it to be safe, and free of more…insidious dangers."

"What, you think my mom is trying to poison you? That's insane, even for you."

She shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

His voice grew louder now, indignant. "I'll have you know my mother has never poisoned a house guest in her life, Akuha. Or anybody, for that matter. And she wouldn't start even if she knew what you were." At the wild look that now spun to face him, he quickly added: "No, don't worry, I didn't. I won't, either, definitely. I never even told her about Moka and the others; I'm sure not going to break the news using you as the example."

The eyes relaxed, and the girl collapsed lazily onto the bed behind her. "That's good," she droned. "Better for everyone's sake, that way."

"I'll have to ask you to please not make threats against my family," Tsukune said coolly. When he was met with silence, he sighed, finally letting his tensed muscles go lax. By this point, and perhaps with his Shinso blood actually providing some enhancement to his senses, his vision had grown accustomed to the dark, well enough to fully see, with the aid of the moon, the features of the spread-eagled girl before him. Her face was ghostly white, more than normal, and the cheeks looked thin and wasted; she seemed smaller, somehow, too, as if her very frame had shrunk slightly in its want; and on her arm, as he leaned closer, he saw a few scattered dots that perplexed him at first, but soon became apparent as puncture marks, where the girl had nicked the flesh with her fangs in an attempt to sustain herself on her own life's blood. She quickly covered the skin with a hand, though, as she noticed his attention. "You haven't eaten a thing all this time, have you," he said calmly.

"You don't need to trouble over it. I can take care of myself." There was that odd hint of a growl in her voice again—no, not her voice, it clicked in his head; it came from a little way south.

"So, what are you planning to do?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Starve yourself for a whole month? I'm sure whatever training you had must've been tough, but even you can't pull that off."

"I'll manage," she said flatly. Then, pointing towards the window, a bit of amusement creeping into her tone, she informed him: "During the day I've been putting some of the food on the windowsill, to lure in some birds."

At least she didn't seem to be in low spirits; nevertheless, Tsukune found himself grimacing at the implication. "Don't tell me you…eat the ones you've caught?"

"And why not?" she contended. "They're a perfectly fine source of protein. Besides, how do you think I had to survive certain parts of that training you mentioned, out there on my own in the wilderness? I am completely capable of hunting for my own dinner."

Tsukune brought a hand to his face, bewildered exasperation building inside him. "This isn't hunting, Akuha, it's—I don't want a pile of dead bird remains next to our house!"

"It doesn't matter. I haven't been able to catch even one of those little suckers," she admitted with regret. "They're quicker than I gave them credit for."

"Why didn't you just ask Hayate for help?"

"Huh?"

"He brought you your water herbs, didn't he? Why didn't you ask him to bring you meals from the ship if you didn't want to eat my mom's _perfectly safe _home cooking?"

She sat upright then, placing her hands on her knees and rocking steadily back and forth. Despite such a lax pose, her words were serious. "What, and have him come here every day? He has other duties to attend to, you know. Hayate can't be hiking back and forth, day after day, and besides…" She paused, briefly, and then: "I don't want him to fuss too much over me. That's just what will happen if I trouble him for this. He has other things he needs to be focusing on; I can't interrupt that."

"Then how about asking one of your crew?"

"You kidding?" she scoffed. "Like I'd trust some grunt with such an important task. And come on, would you really want a strange Fairy Taler showing up at your home every day?"

"Too late for that," he quipped lightly; he could practically feel her eyes roll. "But, you're right, I guess. So…What now? You can't not eat."

The girl cleared her throat and jerked her head over toward the window, saying simply: "Birds."

"You know that's a non-starter…." He smiled weakly, feeling his muscles start to sag and ache with their own day's exertion.

"Well, then…It seems we're short on options," she stated. Not without truth, Tsukune knew. This girl was stubborn as a mule, once she had set her mind on something. There would be no success in trying to persuade her otherwise; she would not eat. He looked at her. She had flopped on her back again, sighing with weary exasperation, clearly wanting the intruder to leave her to rest and not give her any more trouble over this issue. _Handling things alone…She's kind of like Ura. _The realization came to him delicately, without alarm, and he smiled at the familial similarities. He wondered, moreover, what Moka would do in this case, how she would try to help her sister. _She'd probably shove her breakfast down her throat until it was gone, _he chuckled. _I doubt I have the strength for that. _In the end, nothing came to him. Nothing, that is, except for a faint sense of guilt: enemy though she was, Akuha was still Moka's flesh and blood, and his companion in her retrieval. And now, for his sake, his desire to spend time here at home, she was willing to endure a whole month of apparent starvation….A fact he would've found touching, if primary concentration had not been on possible solutions.

"It's my fault," he exhaled, relating to her those very thoughts. His eyes drifted over her, coming to rest once more on the marked arm. He shook his head in disbelief. Had she really tried to drink her own blood for sustenance? Such an action reeked of desperation. Besides, it didn't make any sense, how could—?

The thought went unfinished, for, feeling a sudden pounding rush surge through his body, Tsukune fell to his knees with a gasp, drawing in a sharp breath as surely as he would choke without it, his fingers splaying over his chest to feel the quickened beat within. His nerves were aflame, every pore's sensitivity to the lightest breath increased ten-fold, his skin searing hot, as if about to melt off the bone. Yet this was nothing before the heat of his blood, roaring like wildfire through his veins, commanding his limbs to jerk and shutter unprompted by his will, until he was a burning, writhing inferno, prostrate on the floor, directing what little motor skills he could by clutching his stomach, grinding his teeth against the pain. For there was pain, seizing and wracking his form with crippling shocks from head to toe. The storm filled his ears as well, loud whines and hisses and shrieks and muffled screams joining in a cacophonous din; this latter, he distantly came to realize, his own agony shouted into the dusty rug held between the teeth.

There was another noise, too, a rustle, so far off it might have been beyond the horizon; but it came to him, and a moment later he was being moved once more, not by blood, but hands shifting him onto his back, stuffing some fabric into his mouth to soak up the screams like a sponge. "Hey, what is it!?" The voice broke through, barely, muted as if he were under water, and he felt a coolness light upon his brow, chasing for a time the choking fires from that spot.

"It's…the blood…Shinso….!" He heard himself rasp. He knew. Inflated and intense as it was, the basis of this sensation was familiar. "Moka…." Something was happening with her, wherever she was, to ignite her Shinso blood like never before, and, they sharing this between them, his as well.

Akuha froze. Moka's blood was causing this kind of a reaction? It couldn't be that connection he had spoken of, could it? What was happening to her!? Gyokuro had assured her safety, but—wait….No, was that it? Had Gyokuro moved on to the next stage already, without her? _But that would mean..._Her hand remained upon the boy's head as her mind raced. He was burning up, consumed by a fever far beyond what humans could endure. Presumably, Moka was in a similar state, though a vampire would be much better equipped for such turmoil; whatever her sister's condition, if it continued for too much longer, Tsukune would be incinerated from within by this demonic youki. She felt her palms moisten, joining the perspiration on the boy's head. Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning in the night for anything she could use to make it stop. She cursed; she had almost forgotten about the Shinso blood her sister had gifted him; didn't the girl know how dangerous such a substance would be to a human body? Her worries were violently halted as a stray elbow drove the wind out of her stomach. She winced, doubting the convulsing boy had even been aware of it.

The attack continued, thankfully, for only a few moments more, before showing signs of gradually subsiding. The pain weakened, still present but dulling, allowing Tsukune to pry open his heavy lids and bring some of his bodily movements back to rein. But he was not clear of the danger yet. The storm had certainly done its work, leaving him drenched in sweat, the back of his neck soaking Akuha's borrowed shorts; his chest—his lungs his own again—heaving with grateful, but labored breaths. The fever had calmed, but the blood beneath the flesh still boiled dangerously warm, like a pot recently removed from a stove, but still steaming with its contents. But none of this was the main catcher of Akuha's eye: a wave of both excitement and horror washed over her, for there, running up the inside of his arm, from that holy lock he always kept around his wrist straight up his neck and now branded into his cheek, were the markings. Black thorns – such was how they first appeared to her. Twisted, jagged, broken; more than that, however, constituted their difference from the last time. The skin beneath the thorns had turned grimly dark, grey and shadowed like stone; slicing through his shirt, she could see it also had spread over half of his chest, and the skin—the skin was rough, harder to the touch.

The markings, at least, she had seen before, prior to the Floating Gardens, and together with the lock, had had a strong suspicion as to their meaning. Now, with this dark streak of skin, there could be no doubt. Ever since she had discovered Tsukune possessed her sister's blood, she had wondered what the end result might be. There were really only two options: outright death, or…_I figured it had to be this, but still, actually seeing it with my own eyes…! I thought there might be other possibilities I'd never heard of, but..._It was inescapable. The skin was ghoulish. And, thanks to the raging blood, spreading.

Perhaps Tsukune had been too numbed to notice by this point, for he mumbled: "It's…alright. It's over now."

"Not so fast," she said hurriedly, still examining him. She glanced back at his face. He had to know about this condition already, right? Only one way to find out. "Tsukune, that seal on your wrist is to stop you from going ghoul, isn't it?"

At that, he looked wearily alarmed. "What? Did something happen to the holy lock?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. But it's already begun, and if we don't do something, I don't think it will hold. Your youki is already overwhelming you. And if that happens"—here she paused, gravely—"I won't be able to hold back."

By now, Tsukune had noticed the markings and the mutated skin, and scanned his arm with horror. "D-damn," he rasped. "No, I won't let it! Not here, of all places! I have better control of it than this. I have to think of something."

"It's not that simple. You can't just will it back down, especially with what you've just been through." She was surprised at her tone—simmering with a touch of urgency—but had little time for it. The youki was threatening to transform Tsukune. But what to do? Even if there was no simple solution….If only it could be extracted somehow, then maybe—_Ah. Of course. _It _was _simple. Not that he would be too pleased with the idea, but there was no other choice she could see. No time to ask for permission, even if she had cared to get it. Without a word, she moved, sweeping the hair from her face, and before Tsukune knew what was happening, she had helped him to his feet and guided him over to the bed, laying him out on his back, and promptly straddling his lap. A warm caress of breath ghosted his neck, and the two pinpricks of her bite sank into the flesh.

In the throes of his previous agony, the concern had not registered with him, but now, clear-headed again, he prayed no one could hear the startled cry that flew from his lips. Not since his first night in captivity had he felt the sting of Akuha's teeth, but there was little discomfort. Indeed, after what had just transpired, this felt nothing short of a pleasant reprieve: her weight against him as she lay draped over his body, her hair like a tickling brush, her lips sealed against his damp skin, suckling diligently and with growing vigor to drain the venomous youki, so toxic to a human, but a flavorful treat for her. In short order, his fever began evaporating, his body cooling to safe levels once more, replaced, though, with a new kind of heat. One of her hands found his firm shoulder, clutching it as she fed, and a heady rush washed over his senses. Life came flowing back into him as the poison left and, still hazy, knots of light drifted and strayed behind his eyelids. His senses narrowed their focus to the woman sitting astride him, now with evident hunger taking more perhaps than necessary for his recovery; but it did not matter, for the pleasure was only building, tingling the back of his neck and his belly, winding the tight coil that had formed somewhere and coaxing moans from his parched throat. The girl made some noise of enjoyment, muffled, in response; what it was exactly, he couldn't tell. Two hardened buds poked his bare chest, separated only by a thin covering, and her weight on him grew, pressing down. The pressure was immense, soon almost discomforting; he had become sensitive to every ounce of her lissom body on his lap, her feather-soft kiss upon his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling the air, the sound of excited breathing mingled with the soft gulps of her delicate throat, the fierce pulsing of his blood as it flowed like a stream from his veins, amplified in his skull to a roaring gush that soon deafened all sound and sight itself. The lights flashed, and scattered, dancing stars frantic upon the swollen sea of black, and the world turned upside down.

Then, suddenly, it was over. Once more, Tsukune returned to himself, like a spirit drifting back through the ether to its recumbent mortal frame. The scope of his awareness expanded, the darkness and pulsing ebbing like waves to reveal once more the moonlit room of the present. His body was wholly his own again, though quickly overcome by renewed fatigue. Akuha sat by him; he could not see her face with his tired eyes, but she had scooted off her perch, and was now motionless, staring, it seemed like, straight at him. He could not muster the strength of throat to speak. The amount of blood she had taken had not been dangerously excessive, he could tell that much. The surge and the agony of before had completely passed, and he felt stable, if somewhat drained, like a fruit sucked dry of juice. Beads of sweat still decorated him like Christmas lights, glittering in the moon as his chest calmly rose and fell.

On his neck lingered the dull ache of the teeth marks. He marveled at how intense his reaction to the vampire's feeding had been: indeed, it was as if excitement had burst from him at every pore, some of which now clung warmly to his thigh. At this sudden realization, Tsukune shot up—as fast as he could—to a sitting position, hurriedly covering his shame and turning towards the window, the hanging moon an easier sight to face than Akuha. Despite this, he did not forget what had just occurred, and what she had done. "T-thank you," he eventually choked out, "for saving me, I mean."

Her voice came softly, with a detectable scratch in it. "S-sure, think nothing of it. Moka would probably be sad if you croaked because of what she did, giving you her blood and everything." She chuckled then, and, to his embarrassment, swiped a finger across the sticky seat of his pants. "Looks like you enjoy being saved a great deal. We'll have to do it more often. Perhaps continue what we began the other day."

Something settled upon his open hand at that moment, soft and wet and enveloping; in his addled state it took him a second to recognize it. Whether it was accidental or not, obviously he wasn't the only one who had experienced some perverse thrill from the feeding, as her light moan caressed his ears. All other things aside, however, he was purely spent, and in little spirits for _that _with anybody, even if it had been Moka. With his retracted hand was withdrawn a frustrated hiss from the girl. No one spoke for a moment, but then he asked: "What was that just now?"

Her smirk faded into displeasure at the reminder. If Gyokuro had already begun using Moka for their intended purpose…But then, this was nothing he needed to know. "What are you talking about?" was all she said.

"Don't play dumb with me, Akuha, and I won't with you: I know that was the blood Moka gave me, which must mean something happened to her to make our connection flare up as powerfully as that. What I meant was, what's happened to her? Gyokuro promised she would be safe—you were _sure _it was the truth, you said. That she wouldn't 'dare break her promise,' remember? Was that a lie?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Then what?"

"…Trust me, whatever might be happening now, Moka will be safe. Even if her blood was triggered the same way, she's a vampire, and a Shuzen, at that. She's built strong—stronger than you, for sure. There's no danger."

"So, you do know what's going on, don't you?" But alas, try as he might, he could not force any new information from her; no more Fairy Tale secrets would she casually discuss, only to be demeaningly reprimanded later. All he could pry was her vehement insistence that no severe or lasting harm would come to the girl.

"Do you really believe for a second I'd allow her to die?" she said sharply at the suggestion. "I'm telling you, drop it. It's not for you to know. At the very least, you should have no problem trusting me when it comes to Moka's safety."

She had a point, he admitted. Even so…the idea of his pain also tormenting Moka was not a pleasant one. Time could not pass quickly enough, especially now, until Gyokuro delivered the girl back into his arms. Curse that woman for holding her hostage like this! Forcing him to play this ridiculous waiting game, helpless to act until she permitted. Leaving him with nothing to do but vent to his one companion in this, then lie back on the bed, exhausted from whatever Fairy Tale was allowing Moka to undergo, eyes signaling the onset of sleep and the distant drifting of consciousness….

_But wait! _There was still a matter which had gone unresolved amidst the chaos of his fever. Never mind the fact that this wasn't the room to sleep in, what were they going to do about Akuha's dietary complications? He couldn't just let her starve. They had to feed her somehow—

_Feed..._There was silence between them, then, nothing but the contented whir of the ceiling fan above. His eyes were wandering, as if suddenly mulling over some proposed notion. A notion that provided him with surprisingly less hesitation than its nature would suggest. "Akuha," he began, unwilling to move a muscle, "tell me something: can you guys live off blood? Vampires, I mean."

A soft rap between the eyes from her knuckles answered him. She tossed her head, flicking a stray white strand from her nose. "Duh. _Vampires, _remember? Yes, and werewolves are fond of the moon, and sirens have a hell of a voice."

He chuckled. "Sorry, dumb question. Guess my brain's a bit out of it."

"Why do you ask, anyway?"

"Well…I was just thinking, about the problem we were discussing earlier…."

So intense had been this whole episode, so absorbed in Tsukune's out of control youki had Akuha become, she actually had to take a moment to remember what he was referring to. When it hit her, she immediately dismissed the implication. There was no way he was offering such a thing.

He was. Sitting up once more with a hefty groan, he met Akuha's bright stare, confusion swirling in her eyes. A speck of moonlight caught the glisten of her moist lips, pressed together in patience, and drawing the boy's nervous glance. He was suddenly very aware of their proximity to one another, their solitude, and how intimate the road to his recovery had just been. Secrets or not, this girl had saved his life, the life of her detested enemy: how could he not give this much of himself in thanks? "If you want"—he had to swallow to clear the rasp in his throat, before repeating himself—"If you want, you could…I mean, I could, you know…let you use me—my blood, when you get hu—hungry."

"Eh?"

"I don't know if it'll be enough, I mean, you probably can't take too much at a time safely—but still….You've already used me as a pillow, after all, why not as dinner, too?" An awkward laugh.

"You really want me to take—wait, pillow?"

"What? Oh, didn't I mention? Yeah, at the park the other night, you kind of slipped onto my lap in your sleep. I didn't have the heart to move you, so you just stayed there till I got up in the morning."

Resting on her hands, her legs tucked to the side, Akuha found herself absent reply at this little tidbit, and, oddly, somewhat disarmed. Her brows lifted. After a moment to let it sink in and to gather herself, she retorted: "No wonder my hair felt dirty the next day."

What compelled Tsukune's next action, he was not sure. He could, at a guess, attribute it to fatigue, a careless action brought about by a mental haze. Whatever it was, he was powerless to stop—almost even register—his hand shooting out and fondly ruffling Akuha's hair, as he would a reclusive cat venturing from its hiding place, or as he often did Kyou-chan.

Her reaction was equally indignant as both other recipients. She swatted him aside, flailing both arms as if she were defending against pestering bugs. "Whoa, hey, watch the hand! Who do you think you are, petting a Shuzen? Are you nuts? Do I look like your pet?"

Laughing, he apologized, though perhaps not sincerely enough for Akuha's liking, and watched her smooth out her dark locks, invisible in the night if not for the pale illumination seeping through the window. An itch bothered his chest; reaching to scratch it, he was reminded of his ruined shirt crumpled nearby, torn in Akuha's attempt to save him from the attack. Gathering it, he rose from the bed and made for the door, eager to sink into sleep. "Thank you, Akuha, again," he said at the door. Then, with a wry smile, mostly to himself: "So much for not sneaking into each other's rooms at night. I guess I shouldn't have told them _nothing _was going to happen." Then, bidding her goodnight, he left.

_To be continued..._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: Sorry for cutting it off a bit abruptly. As I said in a previous update, I split up what I had written so far in order to hasten the next posting, rather than delay it till who knows when while I finished off one extremely long chapter. And it was here, within that chapter, that proved the best place I could find to make the split. It should flow smoother once the next chapter is posted, so stay tuned, reviews welcome, and thanks for reading.


	15. For Want of Innocence, Pt 2

**For Want of Innocence, Pt. 2**

Tsukune was as good as his word. In the coming weeks, once every other day or so, he would bare his neck to the famished vampire, and let her take her fill. After what she had done for him, no complaint grumbled in his mind. Besides, though it was a tad embarrassing to admit, he had perhaps come to anticipate—enjoy, even—the bite of a vampire a bit overmuch. It was…erotic, to put it lightly, and though he never lost control of his loins as before, it took all of his willpower not to act upon the hot arousal that boiled to life whenever her teeth were embedded in his flesh, her mouth latched onto him like an eager scavenger. At least, not to act upon it with her: sometimes, the tension was too great for him ignore, and he would find himself alone in his room, rushing and fumbling to relieve himself, with a bit of shame, of the sweet agony.

Regarding her mealtime, fortunately, he was informed, the Shinso blood mixed with his own ensured that Akuha would be perfectly full and satisfied with a relatively light amount until it next came time to feed. Indeed, the blood's potency seemed to fill her with new life, reinvigorating her to such a degree that she actually agreed one day to accompany him to the community center, much to everyone's surprise. Her first visit was remarkably calm; he had made the assurance that no one would try to stab or execute her in any fashion, but that, though she was forbidden from "defending" herself, he was not so beholden, and would step in should anyone pick a fight with her. She did not relish the idea of Tsukune fighting her battles, but accepted his offer in the end. And so, she found she rather enjoyed the exercise, not to mention these new, bizarre training instruments she had never before encountered. From the pool area, naturally, she kept her distance: no need to risk lethal accident just to watch the boy splash back and forth like some wet, splashing ape. She instead kept close to the gym, experimenting with the machines and weights, the treadmills and benches, eventually settling into a kind of cautious comfort with them, so much that she would hardly pay any attention to the few people who occasionally shared the room with her. It felt good to use her muscles once more, to keep them in peak working shape, beating and drilling them in the absence of any fighting.

One thing Tsukune was less than thrilled about was what Akuha had told him the very next day, after she had called Gyokuro to demand an explanation for what had happened with Moka and her blood. This conversation Tsukune had not been present for, and Akuha would not reveal any specifics of what her commander said other than the heart-sinking warning that over the next month—longer, actually—he should expect repeat bouts of pain. When pushed, again she would not answer, but it was clear to him that she was patently unhappy with whatever it was they had to subject Moka to—particularly, though she remained silent about her suspicions, if Gyokuro had indeed moved prematurely, and not waited for her return to oversee the operation and stay at her sister's side. However, as one of the organization's captains, she remained firmly resolute about its necessity, and would confront Gyokuro if the time came. So, three more times that month, Tsukune was made to suffer—each time, at least, in the privacy of his own home. And it was during these times that he was most grateful for Akuha's presence, and for her soothing, fever-relieving bite that left him feeling exhausted, but whole.

His parents, when they were around, made special effort to interact with and chat up the brooding house guest; Tsukune wondered if this might have had a part to play in Akuha's newfound desire to join him on his daily excursions. Time passed in much this way, then, and by well into the third week going to the center had become a surprisingly familiar routine for the pair. The activity did keep his mind occupied against fear for Moka. And though he chided himself for it, given the unknowns of Moka's condition, Tsukune couldn't deny that it was almost kind of fun to have the eldest Shuzen around; the company reminded him of times spent here with Kyou-chan in the past, although, this one did not care about taking the role of ear-twistingly strict physical trainer. Occasionally, he would even forego his swim to stay in the fitness room with her, and build up his own muscles and stamina on dry ground. If either of them dwelled on the potential awkwardness of the situation, both training for a war on whose sides they stood vastly apart, they did not mention it. It was a thought that already bore him down heavily, like the stack of weights on the cable behind him: whatever Akuha had done, even if Moka were to regain her memories, it wouldn't be easy for her to fight her sister, to the death if necessary. The familiar wish returned, as he recalled the night shared on the park bench, her head on his lap, skin fine and delicate under his soothing touch. If only there was a way to draw upon Akuha's feelings for Moka, to make her see the dream they shared, and understand everything they were fighting for.

This gave him pause. Was it suddenly such an important issue to him, to alter Akuha from her path of carnage as Fairy Tale's merciless enforcer? Well, of course it was—the fate of mankind could depend on it. That much was obvious. No, it went further than this….That was how it felt, at least. What it was Tsukune remained helpless to identify. Not love; that was reserved for the one special girl (well, two, sort of) with the prison round her graceful neck. Friendship? It sounded only slightly less improbable. They had only known each other such a short time; then again, when it came to ayashi girls, he seemed to have a rather quick-acting gravitational field of friendship…._But no!_ Quick or not, she had been his enemy from the moment they had met….But then, hadn't Kurumu and Ruby, too, started off as hostile? On top of that, if not for her, he would be dead now at the hands of the succubus slaver. Most peculiar of all, she had even agreed to stay with him at his house, despite all her enmity for humans – he made a mental note to inquire after the reason someday.

Or could the explanation for his sentiments be much simpler, much cruder, merely the fact that as a young man who had been amorously engaged by a devilish temptress, the sounds and images and sensations dropping anchor deep in his memory, he was but inadvertently crossing heart with horn? He groaned inwardly and with a thin mouth, letting his iron load back down with a loosening of his grip on the handlebar above him: he could not possibly be that shallow, could he? But the mystery remained. If none of these answers, then what spurred this desire?

As if in mockery, this latter option was currently being probed – a side effect of Akuha's rather limited wardrobe choices, the close-fitting white top she wore. Her back to the boy, the faint slopes and valleys of firm, taut muscle ran smoothly under the shoulders and arms glistening under a sheen of transparency as her chin rose over the bar, her breaths easy; finished, she dabbed a small towel at her forehead, brushing aside the matted tresses of obsidian that clung to the hot damp skin.

"Get a good look, perv?" Her voice came, a mix of irritation and cheer, to his ears, and he realized he had been staring. His eyes quickly darted to the other men nearby, who now paused to glance their way with raised brows.

"Jeez, not so loud," Tsukune hissed under his breath. "Again with the perv? We're in public, Akuha."

She sauntered over, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he loosed the overhead bar from his grip, exhaling deeply. She bent down, leaning in close; a soft lock of black tickled his shoulder as surely as her whispered breath against his neck. "Aiya, I wouldn't think that mattered to you."

He brushed her hand aside, frowning, trying to calm the excited tingle along his nape. "You've got us mixed up," he retorted, rising to get a much needed drink. When he turned back a moment later, he found her eyeing the machine curiously, running a hand along the felt on the handlebar, fiddling with the rod down in the weights….It was not the first time she had performed such examination. "You really never saw anything like this growing up?" he asked. Then, upon her denial: "But what about all your assassin training, and stuff? You had to have come across them before."

"Nothing like this contraption." She craned her head. "No, none of these were part of my training. No sleek, smooth metal, no easily accessible liquids. Certainly no air conditioning." She motioned upwards.

"What did you do, instead?"

She turned back to him, and blinked, eyes glossing over as her mind dove into the past, and she took a seat on the machine herself. "Well, I made us of nature's tools. In place of lifting weights like these, I had rocks. Logs. Boulders."

"B-Boulders?" The thought of such a small-framed young child beneath a colossal slab of stone was amazing.

"Yeah, when you're up in the mountains, you can find plenty of ways to get stronger. But they really wear on the skin, you know?" She rubbed her fingers together unconsciously. "Usually, though"—she paused for a moment, but continued almost before he could notice—"they would just pit me against other ayashi, and I'd damn well have to make sure I was strong enough to survive. Trial by fire, if you will."

Tsukune watched her. Her expression had hardly changed, but he knew his was one of surprise. It wasn't completely unexpected news: she was an assassin, a keen blade used for cruel business, and no doubt had been forged in an intense furnace. He had even seen her father command her to fight her sister to the death, although he had interceded before it got to that point. He could only guess what more she had been through in China; here, now, was confirmation. "You had to kill them," he murmured, not as a question.

She nodded calmly, testing the machine with a tug on the bar. "I was never the absolute best when it came to physical strength. Kahlua probably has me beat there. That's why I ended up learning the Jigen-tou—teaching myself, I should say. It gave me a better chance. No…More than that…To be able to cut down even the toughest colossus with no more than a knife…." She paused, and pulled it down vigorously, then slowly loosed it back up. "They started by sending them after me in the night, one by one, while I'd try to settle down in a cave or some other shelter I'd found for the night. And that was just in the beginning. Those were the harshest days, before Jigen-tou, before my body was even in proper fighting shape." Through this, Tsukune did not once interrupt, but she could see the disbelief swimming in his eyes. "You're wondering how I survived with such disadvantages? Eh. Different circumstances, different stories. Take Cyclopes: they're unbelievably stupid, and rather fond of drink. So, voila. Then you have Minotaurs, who just charge at you headlong with no thought but pulverizing you into thin beef. In those cases, let's just say, boulders can go down as well as up…." A twitch of her mouth, then, at some fond memory of cleverness. Still, the boy remained mute. Steeling her muscles, she gripped tightly on the bar and pulled down, speaking again on the return. "After I had the Jigen-tou, though, all bets were off. They sent small armies at me, beasts all shapes and sizes. And I'd flood the grass with their blood." Another smile.

It was now that Tsukune spoke again. "You keep saying 'they'. You mean the Miao family?"

"Mhm. It was for their service I was to be an assassin, after all. They had to make sure their weapon didn't fail like so many others. That I was an ultimate, unstoppable force, to fight against their enemies." A delicate note of roughness crept into her words at that, but Tsukune did not detect it.

"It's disgusting," he said, glowering at the floor. Then, when he met her eyes again, seeing her confusion: "Treating a child that way! Putting them through hell, throwing them to the wolves to see whether they'll live or die?"

"Oh, yeah. Werewolves. Those, too."

"You know what I mean," he growled. "It's the worst child abuse story I've ever heard. Every one of those Miao bastards should be…they should be locked up in the darkest prison till they rot. How can you talk about it so casually?"

She shrugged, the gesture only igniting his temper further. "It is what it is," she said as simply as she had told Kahlua. "That was what the Miao wanted for me. That was what our father and Gyokuro wanted for Kahlua. That was what—" Another pause, as she checked herself. Not out of reprimand for revealing some secret, but for simple inaccuracy. "Huh. Actually, I guess Akasha didn't want that for Moka. For any of us, really, but that wasn't her call to make. We weren't her daughters."

"She thought of you like one." The words were out of his mouth before even entering his mind. There was a bitterness to his tone that surprised him, but suddenly made sense as the flash of memories—Moka's memories—flew behind his eyes like an old film reel, ending with Akasha Bloodriver being pulled slowly into the darkness against a young girl's anguished cries. He shook his head to clear the troubled thoughts. This was not the time. Especially now, with Akuha morphing before his eyes into a child herself—younger, even—cowering in a cave over a first, hard-won kill. Yet this, too, was an improper thought to have, he told himself, taking another greedy swing of water, then placing the bottle down. The past was the past, and one couldn't so easily brush aside who Akuha was now.

At his words, she had turned sharply towards him. "What did you say?" He wasn't entirely sure if she had heard him, but he didn't care to find out. "Nothing," he replied, groaning inwardly, his brain looping in knots at the dueling voices nagging in his head.

He quickly assumed she had not heard him, for she suddenly seemed to arrive at some miffed realization, rubbing her brow and chuckling. "Ugh, why am I sharing all this with you? Quit being nosy, Tsukune. You're as bad as Kahlua. I didn't plan on giving you my life story. And I didn't know it would make you so unusually…aggressive." She smirked, reaching out with a foot to tap lightly on his shin. The gesture was more good-natured than flirtatious. "Still, I don't need some knight in shining armor. But I guess I should thank you for listening, or something."

"Yeah, well. You were only a kid back then. I'd say the same for anyone." He retracted his own foot and glanced around. The others had gone back to their own routines, turning attention from the oddly matched couple. Excusing himself, then, Tsukune made for the restroom. Dousing his face at the sink, he glimpsed himself in the mirror. These past weeks had done wonders for his rejuvenation. He no longer appeared half asleep, eyes churning with nerves and paranoia, but alive and vivacious, energized with a quickened restlessness that made him look eager to plow through any obstacle ahead, and devour any who stood in the way of his goal. The added exercise didn't hurt, either; already his arms and shoulders wore a tad extra bulk, something which Akuha had even complimented. _Even so…_It was not sufficient. Try as he might to prevent it, he knew the very real possibility remained that war was coming. A war that might overwhelm even the most battle-hardened soldiers. And he, a mere student. Stronger than many of his kind, yes, thanks to his vampiric enhancements, but small comfort that was in the face of Fairy Tale's power, and whatever demonic warriors they would send to obliterate humanity. He hadn't actually given it much consideration, how the organization would accomplish their goal, though the few times he had, he kept picturing an army of Kuyous, burning like blinding suns, flaring over the planet, disintegrating every mortal in their path.

A ridiculous notion, true; there was only one Kuyou, and wherever he had skulked off after his defeat, Tsukune cared not. In his mind, the nine-tailed beast simply embodied, even more than Akuha, all ayashi hatred for humanity. The last time they had fought, Tsukune could not have hoped for victory alone. How, then, even with his friends, was he to stand against an army of like-minded—and, presumably, like-powered—monsters?

He chewed his lip, mulling it over. Assuming Gyokuro kept to her word, once Moka was returned to him, they would escape together, and, per his promise, free Kurumu and the others from their incarceration. From there…Well, he hadn't thought that far yet. Truthfully, he had been winging things up until now, just soldiering forward, relying on luck and ability to survive, as well as his friends. Even the attempted deception in Yomotsu had been Moka's idea. He was an intelligent young man, but he was no schemer. Not like the Shuzens seemed to be. Not like Akuha. Despite the toll Moka's absence took on her, he knew hers was still a mind that was always spinning, scoping out the terrain a hundred steps ahead. Hell, if she had been on his side, he probably would've sought her advice on how to win the war. Again, the distant wish arose in him, that she could somehow be dissuaded from this path, see the good in his and Moka's goal. And again, he knew it to be a fool's hope. Still, he thought, in the remaining time they would have together, if he could shift her heart even a little, perhaps just make her doubt her dark ambitions, he would count it time well spent. There had to be a way. He knew humans were not perfect, but they weren't the festering hordes Akuha counted them. How to make her see, though? This would be so much easier if he _were _a schemer.

More than that, his mind worked as he walked back to the machine room, something didn't quite fit. It was her story, he quickly realized, in his distraction bumping into a tattooed man passing him in the hall who shot him a very peculiar look; Tsukune did not notice, but gave a word of half-attentive apology. It did not fit at all. It had been ayashi who had treated her so ruthlessly as a young girl…Yet it was humans she despised? If the example she had narrated constituted the majority of her childhood days, spent honing her skills as an assassin, then where did this hatred originate? There had been no humans in her tale, and he was simply assuming it had only been monsters the Miao pitted her against. Was that wrong? Had there been human adversaries at some point? Had she suffered at their hands time after time, losing every battle as a bloody, beaten pulp?

"Really, what sense does that make?" he chided himself, knowing that in the end such random speculation would get him nowhere. Dropping the subject, he returned to the room and his experimenting companion.

Next day, they were at it again, Akuha keeping to the machine room like a nesting bird while Tsukune opted for another invigorating swim. Several minutes of stretches, as he and Moka would always do before sparring, and he was in the heated water, shaking the spray from his eyes, tucking his body and then pushing off the wall into a dynamic backstroke. He went up and down the lane like a missile, his current strength overcoming the added weight of the shirt he had kept on, to hide his scars from public eyes. Still, it kept him from going unnaturally fast, and thus drawing too much attention to himself. Not that he would have minded, but, given who he was here with, he thought it best to keep to themselves as much as possible.

Today, he was soon to discover, this was unfortunately not to be. As it happened, he had just finished his last lap, and was resting with elbows atop the wall at his back, and so was able to watch as the door opened and Akuha came upon the pool area. He couldn't see her closely from this distance, but he was instantly struck by her entry. What was she doing? There was water all around! Her shoes would keep her feet safe on the flooded ground, but at any moment she could be collateral splash damage. She made her way down the steps to the cream-colored tiles, keeping close to the room's wall, obviously cautious of the few swimmers that loitered around the edge. She hadn't even put on her coat as a sort of shield, as he had imagined she would if she ever came to this place.

She approached, and he could see her clearly now. Her scowl was nothing to wonder at, but it was mixed with a kind of strained anxiety. The red eyes were narrowed, but every so often would swivel a bit to the side, as if trying to see backwards. Nevertheless, she made sure to keep her usual calm poise.

She curled a finger at him once at his lane, but she need not have bothered, for he was already paddling over to meet her.

"You do know there's water here," he quipped, amused, but quietly enough so the other swimmers wouldn't hear the echo of the odd statement.

"Don't remind me," she replied with a grimace, crinkling her nose as if the pool emanated a noxious odor. "I had no choice. We have a problem, and I'm calling your promise."

"Promise? What promise? What's going on?"

He had not actually noticed the newcomer nearing them as they spoke, but now both of their attentions were drawn as a man's voice called out: "Hey, look, I'm sorry! I just thought you were cute, is all."

Turning, Tsukune saw the source of the voice. It was a tall, lumbering fellow that now came up to them. He appeared in his late twenties, lean, a ruffled clump of chestnut atop his head. He was no giant, only a head above Tsukune, but Akuha was not a big person, and only reached his shoulders. Sweat ran down his face and bare arms, one of which sported a rather rich tattoo of a rather serpentine dragon with a tiger's nape clutched between its jaws. His eyes were focused on the dark-haired girl standing a few feet from the pool's edge.

And suddenly it made sense. Tsukune's stomach sank, and he groaned a weary "Ohhhh," pinching the bridge of his nose."

"You're damn right, 'Ohhhh'!" she spat, keeping her voice low. "Fix it! Get him out of here! He came up to me in there and started harassing me. Who knows what he'll attempt to do when I refuse? You said you would deal with crap like this so I wouldn't have to."

It was true, he had. And now that the man reached their location, he had to think quick on his feet. Even if it was something as innocuous as asking Akuha out on a date, Tsukune knew she would not stand for that.

"Come on, don't go running off like that. Gimme a chance," the guy was saying. He stood next to her now, seemingly not noticing the boy in the pool.

"I told you, not interested," Akuha grunted, not turning to look at him but keeping her gaze on the water's surface. The man's eyes followed, and this time noticed Tsukune, swaying on his heels in the shallow end.

"Excuse me," Tsukune now interjected.

"Yo," the man said flatly. "What do you want?"

"Um, sorry, who are you?"

"I'm Takashi. Why do you care? Never mind. Listen, buddy, could you give me a moment? I'm trying to have a conversation with this lovely flower here."

At that, Tsukune couldn't help but let out a loud bark of amusement. He imagined it was the first time in her adult life, at least, Akuha had ever been called that; she couldn't have cared for it. Takashi's eyes narrowed into a scowl that almost matched Akuha's own. "Something funny?" he asked.

"Yeah, no, 'flower'…It's nothing." Tsukune chuckled again, but it died in his throat at the dangerous flash he saw in the vampire's eyes, one that said plainly, Ten seconds until this guy is in every lane at once.

Takashi was already chatting her up again, leeringly attempting to extract a phone number from her. Unconsciously, perhaps, she had moved slightly forward, and now stood closer to Tsukune than before.

"And maybe"—his hand suddenly coming down to rest on her shoulder, the fingers subtly groping the skin; if he felt her muscles tense at the touch, he paid it no mind—"you and I could go out for drinks sometime, after I get off my shift tonight, get to know each other, see where things lead…"

Tsukune's eyes widened in disgust; maybe it wasn't so innocent: this guy couldn't even keep his hands to himself for a minute. "Excuse me," he repeated, louder and with more force this time. His thoughts raced even as his mouth moved, ideas shuffling like cards as he tried to pick the right one to get this creep to give up and leave. His mind, it seemed afterwards, chose one without consulting him. "Sorry to interrupt, but I would appreciate you not hitting on my girlfriend."

For the first time since she had entered Akuha's scowl vanished, giving way to a look of surprise as quick as a light being switched. And once more, Takashi's expression matched hers. "Huh? Girlfriend?" His eyes darted back and forth between the two. "You serious?"

"Yeah, I am. Isn't that right…dear?" He forced the word out, trying to smile widely.

Akuha was not well versed in situations like this, but even she could take a hint. "That's absolutely right," she put in sharply, wanting nothing more than to rid herself of this unwanted suitor. "So, as you can see, I am spoken for, and have no desire for your flirtations."

_A bit formal, _mused Tsukune, _but hopefully he gets the message._

Takashi went silent for a moment, brow still raised in surprise, fixing one then the other with a curious, summing look. Then he loosed a great laugh. For such a skinny guy, thought Akuha, he could sure bellow. "Yeah, yeah, okay, I see what's going on here," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not dumb. I know what you're up to. You're her friend, pretending you guys are a thing so I'll back off, right? Cute, but I'm not buying."

"W-what are you talking about?" Tsukune stammered, his earlier bravado shaken; his only idea wasn't working! "It's not an act, we really are together."

"Uh huh, sure."

"Why don't you believe me?"

A deep exhale. His arms folded across his chest. "Don't get me wrong, you're not an unattractive dude or nothing, it's just…" His eyes went back appreciatively to Akuha, drinking in the sight. "This one's in a whole other league."

Akuha allowed herself a touch of mirth at that. "Well, he's not entirely wrong," she chimed in, examining her fingers proudly.

That earned a dangerous grin from Tsukune. "Oh? Maybe you'd like to go out with him, then?"

"What? N-no, that's not what I meant." She shook her head. "You know it's only…you…I want to…be with," she growled through gritted teeth.

"Very convincing," said Takashi wryly, watching them.

It was at that moment the three of them heard the pitter patter of small feet approaching them – two pairs of small feet, it turned out. Tsukune and Akuha had been so distracted by trying to shake Takashi that they had not noticed the door that gave on the area opening, and two young boys, clad only in their swim trunks, dashing down the carpeted ramp and onto the tiles, an old man who was presumably their grandfather trailing slowly, calling for them not to run by the pool.

One of the boys broke ahead of the other, and soon sped by the trio. It was then that Tsukune echoed the old man's admonishment. "Hey, you shouldn't run here!" It was a shout, in order to be heard, but his tone was friendly.

The boy skidded to a halt just past Akuha, and turned to face the stranger who had called him. His curious, dark eyes glinted with the water's reflection. "Sorry," he offered blankly, running a hand through the thick brown locks that curtained his brow. That was all he said, but Tsukune smiled at him nonetheless, and nodded. A sudden motion in the corner of his eye caught his interest. Turning, he looked at Akuha. It was barely perceptible—so slight he was surprised he had seen it at all—but she seemed to have tensed. Her arms were drawn close to her sides, and her shoulders were rigid. She didn't utter a sound. She was facing the boy, but as she absently took a half-step back, and then another, even smaller, Tsukune saw a shadow cross her smooth features, the pale darkening like snow under a passing cloud. Her eyes had widened, and her lips held parted as if in mid-breath. The boy glanced back at her, cocking his head like a young pup in confusion. As children do, he had the kind of cutting perception that instantly alerted him when something was not right. "You ok, ma'am?" he asked politely.

There was no time for Akuha to answer, as the second boy now reached them. He still came at a carefree run. Either he had not heard Tsukune's warning, or had thought himself, behind his brother, exempt from it. He was quick to discover, however, that he should have taken heed as well. A bare foot landing in a particularly slick puddle, he lost his balance and slipped, shouting in surprise as he careened headlong, flying forward with arms already flung out to break his fall. He skidded along the ground for a moment before both feet took to the air, and as he fell, an outstretched arm whacked Takashi on the back. Takashi, being a big man, was not so easily shifted by a child's desperate push; nevertheless, the force was just enough to make him stumble forward, knocking Akuha, too, off balance and toward the edge of the pool as he caught and steadied himself. For a flash of a second, the girl's world froze, everything around her going still and silent, the people and noises vanishing, as she hung suspended between life and death.

And then, the world slipped away under her feet.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x -x-x-x-x-

_Flashes of memory. Ephemeral. __Distorted. Images ebbing like reflections in a pond, overlapping in ripples. Nothing specific. More like a distant sense than a clear picture. And though the water showed reflections, of mountains, of sky, of indistinct faces, none of it was clear. The pond fogged with an ugly rusted taint, whirling together with clouds of muddy brown. Through the murky swill, too, showed specks of gleaming obsidian, they alone on the surface catching and throwing the light from some unseen source. Birds that had been singing time out of mind abruptly ceased their warbling, and the smell of earth and burning charcoal fouled the still air. The specks of light faded completely from the surface of the water, and the dark patches slowly vanished, as if two stones sinking into the inky depths. The rust spilled over in their wake, and the whole pool was motionless, and quiet._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x -x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When her senses returned to her, Akuha looked around with a frantic start. Her vision was clouded, and in places black. Her lids were weighed down, and she felt like she was floating. Recollection of her current situation came flooding back, dispelling the brief, confused vision, and she realized that only a couple of seconds had passed since she—Wait, she had fallen in. Terror clutched coldly at her heart. Was this the end, then? Was she already dead, and at the gates of whatever afterlife awaited her?

"Akuha!"

Considering her hazy state, the voice came to her ears surprisingly clearly, as if right next to her. She quickly recognized it as Tsukune's. He was calling her name, asking with great alarm if she was alright. She was aware of the floating sensation again, only this time she felt the supports against her back, and here and there a warm tickle lap against her skin. She realized Tsukune must be holding her up. But, Tsukune was in the pool…and she had….

A hand brushed along her brow, and just like that, her wet tresses out of the way, she could see clearly again. Indeed, she had fallen in, and so little time had passed that Tsukune had only just now resurfaced with her after diving to make the catch.

She felt the water lap against her shoulder again, and was suddenly very much aware of her surroundings. Immediately she could feel the fire all around her body, roaring and searing every inch of her submerged flesh, melting her down right down to the-! Except, she realized, unclenching her eyes and muscles after a moment, there was no fire. No unbearable, burning pain, no skin sliding like wax off the bone. Just the wet, surprisingly pleasant warmth that enveloped her, from both water and boy. Even so, she was still too gripped with fear to make a sound, though she was sound enough of mind to loathe this fact. But this was a fear she could not so easily escape. Any second now, she still expected the water to turn to acid, and shivered, wide-eyed, in the dread.

For his part, Tsukune was equally shocked at Akuha's seeming lack of agony. He had expected bloodcurdling screams and writhing the instant she had toppled in with a splash. Instead, she merely huddled close against him, a hand having found its way to his shirt and clutching tightly. He did not know how it was possible that she was physically unharmed, but he did not dwell. A strap of her top had sagged wetly off her shoulder; he slipped it back into place before anyone could see. "Hey," he said gently, "I think it's fine. Nothing's happening."

"It…It doesn't make sense…." Her voice was small, and he was sure only he could hear. "I should be…."

"She alright?" Takashi's voice rang out. "What's the big deal? It's just the shallow end."

Tsukune turned to face him, and saw that, not surprisingly, all eyes in the area had turned to them. "What?"

Takashi pointed at the wire-tight woman in his arms. "She can't swim, yeah? That's why she's so freaked out, I assume? It's only the shallow end, though. Even a non-swimmer can't drown in there."

"Never mind that," Tsukune shot back, his heart pounding from the sudden ordeal. He knew that even if he released Akuha now, and she tried to stand, her legs might very well buckle from the shock. Still, he rolled with it. "It's very traumatic for a person who can't swim to fall right into a pool, you know!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, listen, I don't suppose this would be a good time to see if she's interested in letting me show her a good time? Say, tomorrow night?"

"No, it's not," said Tsukune icily, growing more frustrated by the whole situation by the second. He wanted this guy to vanish, now. "Neither is any time. I already told you, she is my girlfriend!"

An indifferent shrug. "I just don't buy it. It seems too obvious that you're messing with me, kid, and I don't like it."

Then, his temper flaring, his senses temporarily fleeing: "Well then, how do you like this?" And Tsukune's head shot down like a missile to its target, and, with an almost angry violence, sealed his lips against Akuha's.

He would never be entirely sure what drove him to such measures. Perhaps it was simply the excitement of the preceding events, stirring the boldness within him. Perhaps he was simply trying to put a stop, absolutely and at all costs, to this man's unwanted advances. Or maybe he just lost his head for a moment, and half-wanted an excuse, after weeks of being in such close quarters to the vampiress, letting her feed hotly from his flesh, watching her with notably guilty pleasure as she exercised, to steal a taste of those lips for the first time since they had met (this last option certainly did not appeal to him). Whatever it was, it stunned the surrounding group, surely enough. Though he could not see it, Tsukune could sense the stupid, dumbfounded look plastered on Takashi's face. He heard the conjoined "Eww!" from the two cringing boys, as well as the approaching footsteps and gentle chuckling of their old grandfather. To all these, however, he paid little mind, as his thoughts focused on more immediate occupation. The warmth of Akuha's body filled his arms; he could feel her slight curves flowing flush against him, the wet clothes and skin sticking together; from where his hand rested on the bare flesh of her arm, he could feel her go still, accepting the kiss without protest. They kept it chaste, mouths pressed on one another, and he felt her quickened breaths against his cheek, and smelled the sweat and water clinging to her skin.

And then, they parted, a wet string of saliva lingering in the kiss' wake like a rope, before severing and falling back onto the girl's lower lip. The two at last met each other's eyes. She had gone faintly scarlet, and her hair was matted messily across her brow, but her expression was unreadable. Like him, he guessed, she was too stunned by his impulsiveness to have much room for bright embarrassment. His tongue darted quickly across his lips, unconsciously savoring the taste, then he looked around.

Now was the time for embarrassment to come flooding back, bravado quenched under the startled, amused eyes of the onlookers. On the bright side, Takashi had no choice now but to believe Tsukune's claim, and, acknowledging defeat, he left. The old man and his two grandsons approached them, then, the pair still in the pool, Akuha still in Tsukune's clutches. Bowing, the man apologized for the accident, then forced the boys to do the same. Tsukune thanked them and, noticing Akuha's averted gaze, glanced back at the boy. Truth be told, now that he got a better look, there was something about the child that he couldn't quite place. Something almost familiar. The boys apologized again, then walked off and dove into a neighbouring lane, their grandfather sitting on the edge, letting his legs dip and kick. Moving to a different wall of the pool, Tsukune at last let Akuha clamber up onto the side, where she pulled her legs in and wrapped her arms around her knees. She sat there, silent, no longer tense or shivering, but with a distant look in her eyes, as if in the space of a second she had traveled to another world entirely, leaving only her body behind. Hesitating, then going for it, Tsukune placed a hand on her foot, and patted, comfortingly. "That was unexpected, huh?" he said. "Kids. I bet young vampires are just as energetic, aren't they?"

She didn't appear to hear him. When she spoke, it was so quiet that even in that echoing hall he had to lean in to hear. "I should be dead. There's no way I could've survived falling straight in like that." She looked up quickly, even more confused. "And that guy, he just left. He didn't try to attack either of us when he couldn't have me."

It was puzzling, Tsukune agreed. The first part, anyway. It wasn't like she had dumped a bunch of purifying herbs over her head before coming today, and he couldn't imagine that the pool staff would have any inkling that some of their guests might be burned alive without properly sanitizing the water.

_Sanitizing. _The word echoed in his head. Repeating it a few times over, the explanation suddenly slapped him in the face. He laughed abruptly. It was so simple. "Of course, how could I forget? Akuha, it's the chlorine!"

She looked up quickly. "Eh?"

He slapped a palm on his forehead. "Public swimming pools are chlorinated to kill bacteria, since lots of people swim in them. Maybe it works in the same way as your herbs, eliminating impurities—though not quite as well, it looks like." He said this while glancing at the scarlet flush that was beginning to spread all over her body, like a light sunburn or rash. Indeed, Akuha had already begun scratching the back of her neck.

"You might be right," she replied, with something that sounded like heartfelt relief. "I know one thing. I'll take an itch over incineration any day."

Then he, with an evil grin: "Hey, maybe you're not so crazy after all."

She stared at him flatly, folding her hands on her lap, then reached out with a foot and tipped him over into the water. As he capsized, laughing, he almost thought the last thing he heard before he went under was her own laugh joining his.

They arrived home a little bit later than usual that evening. Both had decided to remain at the center a while longer; Tsukune had tried to see, now that he knew it wasn't lethal, if he could convince Akuha to join him in the pool. When she refused, another streak of mischief took hold, and, sneaking up on her while she was distracted, he dragged her down from the pool's edge with a splash. Bursting through the surface with a gasp, Akuha flailed like a hooked fish back over to the side, practically hurling herself from the water back to solid ground. "I said I'd take the itch," she sputtered, shaking her hair wildly. "Not that I wanted more of it!" Tsukune apologized through peals of laughter. "Besides, you know I can't swim!"

"Oh, don't worry," he had said, smiling. "I'm right here. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

She had opened her mouth to retort, and found herself without the words. Instead, she said merely, letting her head drop and her dripping tresses curtain her features: "W-well, then. As long as we're clear on that."

She had soon after gone back to her usual routine, and was later joined by Tsukune. Neither of them spoke of the kiss, but Tsukune wondered if the memory swirled similarly in her mind. By the time they left, they were both dead on their feet. Even as they arrived home, they could barely keep from yawning. Tsukune gave a tired greeting to Kyouko, who was visiting again for the weekend, and was nested firmly on the couch watching television, a coverlet cloaking everything but her head and a row of tiny toes that peeped out from the bottom. She nodded in return, too tired herself to rouse her guard at Akuha's presence. "Dinner is on the table, though it's probably cold by now," she called after the pair as they entered the kitchen. "Auntie left one for you too, Akuha." Sure enough, both plates sat there unattended. By now, Tsukune was so worn out he had barely even heard Kyouko's statement; Akuha looked much the same way. He went over to the fridge to get a drink, poured it, then turned around to a rather surprising sight.

Akuha must have been extraordinarily out of it, he thought, for her to have so casually trudged over to the table, and, as if on autopilot, absent realization, stolen a piece of fruit from her plate and began munching. He said nothing, but watched, letting her crunches fill the air. He knew if he alerted her to this now, she would instantly spit it all out. No, here was a chance. Let her see that his mother was not trying to poison her; maybe that would go a way towards convincing her other humans weren't plotting her death, as well.

It was a minute later, when Akuha had finished, that she suddenly became aware of the situation herself. Tsukune watched as her face went white as a ghost, veiling the rash-like burn that had remained from the pool. She dropped the apple core silently on the floor; though she had no food left in her mouth, she made a sound like choking, her neck twisting towards Tsukune; the fire in those crimson eyes was cold with fear. "W-what the hell? Why didn't you stop me!?" she whispered, aghast.

He walked over to her, and placed his hands squarely on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. "Akuha, calm down. You're fine, trust me. Look, nothing is happening. There's no poison, you're not gonna die." He shushed her, whispering urgently: "Don't make a scene! You don't want Kyou-chan to hear, do you?"

Slowly, then, without response, Akuha plodded over to a chair by the table and flopped down, clutching a fold of her coat at the chest, white knuckled, as if preparing for some sort of violent reaction. A few more minutes passed in silence, with her sitting, and Tsukune watching, but no reaction came. As before, Akuha shortly came to the discovery that she was perfectly alright. Surprisingly, with this realized, she allowed herself to relax, her shoulders lowering, the muscles going slack. She exhaled thankfully. "Still alive," she said.

"Of course you are. Now do you believe me? Nobody here wants you dead, Akuha. Even if they knew what you were, they wouldn't care."

She threw him a look. "You can't be sure of that."

"What? Sure I"—he hesitated—"Well, you're right, I can't. But I've known these people my whole life, and I think I have a pretty good idea of who they are. Once she has a guest in the house, Mom will treat them like her own flesh and blood, no matter who or what they are."

She hummed in reply, then leaned back again in the chair. Her words were slow and measured, as if laden with meaning. "At any rate, it seems you were right about this. I guess it was safe, after all. Surely, if she was trying to kill me, that would have done it. I let my guard down."

"Yes, and look what it's shown you. You've learned something, I hope?"

"I have," she said, nodding. Then, roundly: "I have learned that I do not enjoy swimming."

Tsukune stared for a moment, blankly, before bursting into cathartic laughter. "No, you don't really fit your name, do you!"

With a huff, Akuha shook her head. "Anyway…I suppose I should say thanks for what you did today," she mumbled, then, without waiting to hear his response, returned, gratefully, to her plate, clearing it within a few minutes. She hated to admit it, but Tsukune's mother was quite a talented chef. _You've been missing out, _a small voice whispered in her mind, but she dismissed it with voracious bites. The unusual events of the day, despite a near disaster, had buoyed her mind and spirit into a relatively beatific calm, the kind she had not experienced since her childhood days with Moka. Her eyes flickered every now and then to Tsukune, but she said nothing, and if he noticed, neither did he.

Once finished, both of them cleaned up and made ready for bed. That night, before drifting off to sleep, Tsukune's errant thoughts wandered back to the pool; the feel of the wet body pressed against him, the small, tender mouth, the dripping connection as they parted, summoning more distant memories of her atop him, grinding, pounding, the hoarse shouts and wet slaps and jerking spasms of completion….Again he wondered if the same thoughts at all occupied her head, not knowing that, while they did drift in and out, lying awake in her own bed, she was sleepily fighting to swat back the pesky images of a weak, stupid little child and ancient, dark dreams.

The weekend came, and for once Tsukune opted not to go with his now usual routine. It had occurred to him that he had not spent much time with his cousin, and soon after this, he thought grimly, who knew when he would get another opportunity? She was here now, however, and he wished to spend at least one full day together. Besides, he had overworked his muscles yesterday, and decided to give them a rest. Kyouko was certainly not averse to the idea, and in no time at all after his invitation, she was dressed and raring to go, and clung happily to Tsukune's arm as they walked—he with a slight hobble—out the door.

Akuha was not with them. Though Tsukune, and indeed, to her surprise, Kyouko, had asked her along, she had declined. After the unusual 'excitement' of the previous day, she figured some time lounging around relaxing would do her body good. On the plus side, she would only have to share company with one person rather than many: Tsukune's mother had remained home as well, taking care of the odd chore here and there.

Akuha had not seen much of Kasumi Aono, even after several weeks of living under the same roof. She had kept to herself for most of the month, and Kasumi, along with the rest of the family, had apparently respected her privacy. Now, reclining on the couch in front of the television, blankly staring at what seemed to be inane human programming, Akuha heard the woman coming down the stairs with a bin of dirty laundry. She didn't turn her head from its comfortable position.

Recognizing the tousle of black hanging over the arm of the couch, Kasumi, reaching the landing, hefted her load higher against her chest and sent a friendly greeting Akuha's way.

"Sure you don't want to go join them, dear? I could call Tsukune and ask him where they can meet you."

Stretching like a lazy cat, she swung about into a sitting position. "That's alright. They asked me before they left, but I'm still worn out from yesterday, and didn't feel like doing much sightseeing."

Kasumi paused, as if with a thought, then carefully set her basket down and leaned over the back of the adjacent chair. "You and Tsukune sure have been working hard," she hummed. "I never knew him to be such an exercise enthusiast."

"Yes, well." That was all she said. Couldn't very well tell the woman what she knew to be the reason behind Tsukune's regimen. Turning then, she noticed Kasumi was still looking at her curiously, as if expecting her to continue. Akuha blinked and opened her mouth awkwardly, unsure what to say. "I-I mean, he probably just wants to look good for Moka." The words, she found to her surprise, did not taste as sour as she had expected.

Neither sour was the look that suddenly brought light flashing into Kasumi's face, and her mouth dimpled into a friendly smile. Her next words dispelled Akuha's confusion. "Are you saying…Does that mean that the two of them are still like this?" She crossed her fingers, then, when Akuha did not respond, burst out laughing joyfully. "Oh, thank heavens! I didn't want to press the issue, but after Tsukune brought you home, despite what he said, I just assumed their relationship had ended. You mean that it hasn't?"

There was a loaded question if ever there was one, Akuha thought dryly. Not that she had given it much consideration, but Kasumi's questioning piqued her own curiosity on another matter. What would Tsukune attempt to do after they got Moka back? What would Moka try to do? Akuha herself, of course, had her own plans for her sister, as Gyokuro knew and approved; the next stage of Fairy Tale's plan would be hers to guide, and, though it might not be pretty, she took comfort in the fact that at least with her plan, Moka would ultimately live, and the world of the humans would become a distant memory.

Her musings were snuffed out as she glanced back at the earnest face of the woman before her. It had been a simple question, and warranted a simple answer. And yet, she suddenly found the words bracing themselves stubbornly behind her teeth. Once again, as before—in fact, even more so—what should have been a trivial topic was making her shrink and seek shelter like a frightened mouse. At last, with effort, she said: "No, it's not. They are still…together, I guess you could say." Her lips tingled strangely.

Another laugh of relief; another "Thank heavens" before, realizing what she had said, Kasumi attempted a clumsy withdrawal: "Oh, not that I didn't think you were—That is, I'm sure you would make an excellent girlfriend, Akuha, it's just…."

"I understand," Akuha replied honestly. "Moka has that affect on people. You can't help but love her."

"I'm glad you agree. And, well, not that it matters that much, but she is…you know, _closer _to his age." Her cheeks were tinted pink as she spoke, not sure if she was overstepping. "You said you were, what, twenty-one?"

Akuha nodded. _But wait. _A thought suddenly struck her, and her gaze flew to the staircase; more specifically, to the calendar she had seen hanging on the bordering wall. She didn't even need to squint at the tiny numbers, not with her perfect vision. Her eyes landed on the date. _How about that? _"Huh. Twenty-two."

Kasumi watched her with mild surprise. "Twenty-two? That's funny, I could have sworn you said twenty-one when you first came here."

Another nod. "I was. The anniversary of my birth was just the other day. It completely skipped my mind."

Then, Kasumi, ignoring Akuha's unusual phrasing: "My goodness. It was your birthday? And we missed it? I'm so sorry, I wish I had known! We could have done something special for you!"

Akuha waved a hand quickly. "Oh, no, don't worry about it, please. I wouldn't have expected anything even had I remembered."

But Kasumi did not seem to hear her. She looked lost in thought, then, with a force that almost made Akuha jump, brought her fist crashing down into her palm, and declared, as if celebrating a triumph: "Come with me. I'll cook you something right away. I hope we have at least a few candles lying around…." She scurried off into the kitchen, and Akuha, hopping up, followed. She arrived to see the woman already rummaging through cabinets and drawers, securing a box of candles, then wiping the table clean of breakfast stains. A radio warbled noisily in the background. "Found them!" Kasumi said proudly upon seeing the girl. The resemblance to her niece was uncanny at the moment, thought Akuha. "N-no, really, you don't have to trouble, Mrs. Aono," she insisted.

"Haven't I told you to call me Kasumi?"

"Sorry, Kasumi. But I'm used to not celebrating my…birthdays with such lavish considerations. Besides, you're busy right now, aren't you?"

Kasumi looked at her incredulously, then laughed. "Laundry over a birthday? Are you alright, sweetheart?"

The next few minutes were a very bizarre blur for Akuha. In all honesty, as the human woman hustled and bustled about the room, gathering what ingredients she could find for a nice meal (she apologized for the lack of cake), Akuha began to feel patently uncomfortable. It was disarming, to have this woman fussing over her so; why was she so intent on making a big event out of this? It had been about eight years now since Akuha had left her father's destroyed household to live with Gyokuro and begin her life with Fairy Tale, and, to be sure, not one year had passed when either her step-mother or her colleagues had offered her gifts, dinners, or festivities of any kind. Theirs was an organization dealing with business of monumental importance: there was no time for such childish affairs. As for Issa, wherever he had disappeared, no message or well wishes had ever come from him on her birthdays. This did not surprise her. During her year at the manor, there had been nothing made of the occasion. Of course, she had kept the date to herself, and Akasha, inquiring about it at times to both her and Issa, was met with indifferent dismissal. After all, that was the way Akuha had known, even back then; there hadn't even been the thought of birthdays in the Miao household.

_Except one, _she thought, recalling suddenly a distant childhood memory. Hayate, informed by another servant perhaps of her date of birth, had taken it upon himself to bake a small cupcake and bring it to a young and sleeping girl, then returned in the morning with a gift of a small, lovely pair of hair elastics. She fiddled absently with one of her subtle pigtails, and waited, while Kasumi finished her preparations, continuing to fret and fuss in a way that, to Akuha's discomfort, reminded her indeed of her long-time servant.

A while later, and Akuha's belly was fit to burst. She had hesitated initially when the food was brought to her, out of habit, but she then remembered the revelation from the previous night, and threw out her fears—the wafting odors were far too tempting, in any case. She had dug in voraciously, under Kasumi's festive gaze, until her plates were clean. And though she could have done without that odd candle blowing ceremony with her syrup-smothered waffle, her earlier reservations were gone. If Kasumi wanted to celebrate by feeding her all she could eat, now that she could appreciate it, why argue?

At last, once done, Tsukune's mother joined her at the table, taking a seat of her own and grinning across at her satisfied guest. "Again, I'm sorry we don't have much by way of dessert," she said.

Shaking her head, Akuha then wiped her mouth, folded her hands neatly on her lap, and said, levelly, with disciplined manners: "Do not worry about that. This was already too much. It was very generous of you. Thank you very much for the meal."

Kasumi chuckled scratched at her cheek. "No need to be so formal." She suddenly reached across and took one of Akuha's hands in her own. The vampire's eyes widened, but she found herself not recoiling. "I'm glad Tsukune is still making friends at school." Then, the grip loosening, she leaned back in her seat, and put her hands behind her head in a relaxed pose. "So, how is Moka these days? I've asked Tsukune, but…I don't know, it's like he's been elusive about the subject. Where is she staying now?"

Akuha caught herself just in time to say "Ah, at home," having almost forgotten Tsukune's story of their school break. The answer seemed to have a curious effect on Kasumi, however, who, with a light gasp, bit her lip, her face whitening.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, dear," she muttered, before catching Akuha's perplexed look and, trying to recover, said merely: "N-no, sorry. My mistake. I thought I saw a spider, is all."

Akuha, naturally, had no inkling of the story Tsukune had told his mother in private, the one that had convinced her and her husband to allow the strange, surly girl to remain as a guest. Akuha had not really thought about the why of it at all; she just figured his parents were those kind of people. But now, Kasumi had remembered, and was horrified by her staggeringly insensitive question. _Of course! _She should have suspected Moka would be at home for the vacation, the home with the family that now shunned their other daughter; for Moka could have no part in it, of that she was certain—which left the girls' parents as the culprits. _Outrageous! _she fumed with disgust. _Treating a daughter so. They should be ashamed of themselves. _

She could not have known of the story, any more than she could read the woman's mind, but Akuha was not biting. "I don't believe you," she said plainly; though grateful for the birthday treat, she couldn't just give the woman a pass on dishonesty.

Kasumi simply sighed, wishing she could see another way out of this. "I slipped up," she moaned, the sound mixing with the drone of the radio. "Tsukune won't be happy."

"Tsukune? What are you talking about?"

The woman smiled at her, but it was not the smile she had worn earlier while cooking; there was a tender sadness in her eyes, and her lips were sealed tightly. There was nothing for it now but to be honest with Akuha. After all, she thought, Akuha was an adult; maybe she could handle the difficult discussion. "I suppose I might as well confess. Tsukune told me…about your situation."

"My situation?"

"Your…home situation."

"What exactly did he say?"

Kasumi must have mistaken Akuha's imperious curiosity for anger over the topic, because she hesitated, chewing her lip nervously again. Akuha, seeing this, softened her tone, and asked once more.

So, she told her everything that she had heard from Tsukune. Akuha took it all in patiently, surprised but not particularly shocked by the concocted tale. Apparently Tsukune had felt he needed to convince them after all. It was no big deal. She was impressed, in fact, to learn the boy had what it took to deceive when necessary, even his own flesh and blood. _Not that he hasn't already, _she thought. As Kasumi wound down, Akuha took a long, steady breath, then, the other woman seemingly expecting her to reply, calmly kept up appearances: "I wish he hadn't told you that."

Kasumi nodded in sympathy. "I understand. It's probably a difficult thing for you to talk about. Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to make you! I just wanted to say that if you ever feel like confiding in someone, I'll be happy to lend you an ear."

Akuha was fiddling half-aware with the napkin between her fingers. "What do you know about it?" Despite being simply part of the charade, the words came loose with a surprising bitterness, and Akuha felt another quick pang of regret at the unintentional severity.

The other woman was not offended. She took it as she might, given the situation as it had been related to her. She smiled nicely. Though she had no daughter, she had had a great deal of experience with troubled young women thanks to her niece. Her parents, Kasumi's sister and her ex-husband, had weathered the temperamental storms as best they could—for which Kyouko, more recently, had apologized—asking on several occasions for the Aono's assistance. Grateful, at last, for the patience the experiences had bred in her, Kasumi now sought to aid her son's friend on her birthday.

"Probably not much," she admitted. "But I know what it's like for a family to erupt in anger, and the pain it can bring all involved. Don't tell her I told you this, but Kyouko had a bit of a behavior problem when she was younger. Puberty will do that, yes, but it went beyond that. My sister—her mother—was going through a divorce, you see, and you can imagine the effect that had on her."

"I guess," said Akuha. "Not personally, though. My own mother died when I was little. My father remarried the woman who is my stepmother today." She paused; she might as well spring that bit of truth free from the cage.

"Moka's mother?"

"No, she's gone, too."

"What? I had no idea…Then—"

"Moka and I have two sisters. It's their mother."

"I see."

Then, Akuha, perpetuating the story: "I doubt I'd even give it a second thought if they were to split up."

The radio crackled with signal interference; snatching up a nearby remote, Kasumi lowered the volume a tad. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother," she said, and Akuha heard the echo of Tsukune. Not wishing to ask unwelcome questions, she went on, shadows filling her eyes: "Back then, Kyouko wasn't doing so well in school, and had some bad so-called friends in her life, and when they first told her the news, she started taking a turn for the worse. Her parents even contemplated shipping her off somewhere. They were utterly furious, I remember—this, more than anything, was what almost tore Kyouko apart from her family. Even on visits, I could feel the rage and frustration boiling in that house; in private, I began to worry about how far the situation would escalate. I was genuinely afraid for Kyouko's future….Well, I've tried to hide this part from Tsukune, but I suspect she has told him everything by now. They are quite close, you know."

"I've noticed." Then, impassively: "Not that it bothers me, but I do not think she much cares for my presence here."

"Oh, you'll have to forgive her," she chuckled. "She's just protective of him, that's all it is. I doubt she actually dislikes you in any personal way; how could she, when she's known you so little time? But, she is the closest thing to an older sibling he has, and I guess she takes that role very seriously. I presume it's like that with you and Moka?"

That caught her off guard, and her cheeks felt hot; for some reason, she didn't quite feel like sharing with Kasumi just how "like that" it was. "Y-yes, you could say that." She coughed, and averted her gaze back to her crumb-laden dishes. "So, I take it you're trying to tell me they made up at some point afterwards?"

"In the end, but not in the way she would have wished it. As I said, she didn't take the divorce very well, though who can blame her….I won't tell you exactly what she did, but one day it landed her friend in the hospital, with critical injuries. She was there for a full—Has Tsukune mentioned any of this to you?"

But Akuha's lips had already launched their next question. "What were the injuries?"

"Oh, severe ones. Some broken ribs, limbs….I don't want to make you nauseous, though. It was a gruesome affair."

"Did she die?"

"Hm? Well, no, fortunately. It was a close call, but she managed to pull through. Frankly, the doctors called it a miracle that she did."

"…I bet Kyouko was glad the worst was avoided."

"Believe me, she is. But don't think everything just suddenly became okay. The whole incident shook her to the core, and snapped her clean out that funk she had carried for years—she apologized to her parents, even to us, for everything she had done—but now she had to live with the fact that she almost got her friend killed. She still does, I would guess." Her tone had grown solemn, her look haunted, and Akuha felt markedly uncomfortable.

"That sounds like it would be an arduous burden to overcome," she ventured; Kasumi nodded, then rose to begin cleaning up. She spoke as she moved.

"Yes, especially since her parents still went through with the separation. Even though they had their daughter back, they considered getting someone for her to talk to, like a counselor. You know, for everything she had been through. But, in the end, somehow, it just wasn't necessary."

"How so? She seems perfectly alright to me. How did she manage to get past that?"

"It's funny you should ask. You might think that getting her friend's forgiveness would go a long way towards healing the wounding guilt she felt in her heart, but that was not the case. I suppose it didn't help that the friend moved away soon after, but, in any case…Actually, she came to stay with us for a few weeks, while my sister finalized her divorce. During that time, she and Tsukune were inseparable." She smiled for the first time in telling the story. "Since they were young, she's always acted as a sister to him, and watched out for him, and no matter how much he complained about the trouble she would get them into, I know that deep down, he wouldn't have traded her for anything, even a real big sister. And it was clear, back then, that he had been desperately worried about her, so during those weeks he stuck to her like honey. She didn't voice one objection. Soon, it seemed like a change was coming over her. She was beginning to smile again, and laugh, and we could see the shine of her old self starting to return. I don't know how he did it, but I suspect Tsukune was a big part of that, though I've never had the courage to ask either of them specifically. By the time she left, she still missed her friend dearly, but it was clear to all of us that she'd be alright. Her bond with her cousin was undoubtedly strengthened by the stay, too. I'm sure that's why she was so excited to visit him at school last year, hoping maybe to spend more time together; also out of concern, yes, but there's that overprotectiveness I mentioned!"

Finishing, she came back round to the table, and settled back in her seat with a hefty groan. Akuha was silent; her stare was all at once present and yet worlds away. She didn't utter a word. Kasumi laughed lightly, as if the sound vanquished the ghosts around her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to depress you with such a story. I think I got off track with it; I really was just trying to show you that I do understand something about family tensions, and how they can explode before you know it. I wasn't trying to lecture or preach to you or anything."

Snapped back to the room by the woman's amicable tone, Akuha shook her head violently. "No, please," she insisted, "You didn't. It was helpful, really." It was a lie, and not a lie. "But…" She paused, and Kasumi could see a question straining to break free.

"What is it?"

"Why _did _you tell me? Tsukune told you that my family and I aren't on speaking terms, but that shouldn't give you any cause for concern, right? I mean, no one is forcing you to be so nice to me."

Kasumi looked utterly confused. Then, as if it made sense, she burst out laughing, and, leaning forward, held out her hands, motioning for Akuha to place her own in them again. She did so, awkwardly, her small mouth drawn close in perplexity. The woman's hands felt smooth and hot around her own cold skin. Kasumi spoke: "Don't be silly. I want to thank you for being Tsukune's friend, Akuha. A mother's heart is always soothed to know that her son is in the care of such good people. And anyone special to him is special to me, as well. As Tsukune's friend, you will always be welcome here, and you can always come to me no matter what trouble you might have. I promise to do what I can to help, even if it's just listening. Only if you're comfortable talking about it, of course, but know that you can trust me."

Not for the first time did Akuha find herself bewildered, and lacking words. This…None of this was what she….There was silence for a moment. Off to the side, the music on the radio dulled into chattering voices; outside, through an open window, a flock of birds chirped and squawked perched atop a bus that creaked to a halt some blocks away; and through it all, the girl sat still, motionless but for the fingernails sharply digging into her palms. What was this woman saying? Even if she didn't know what Akuha was, they were not even family. Why was she trying to comfort her, then? Oh, sure, Hayate was the same way, but that was different. It was wholly unnecessary for this woman to do the same, yet here she was, cooking for her, talking to her, smiling at her…Just like, during that ever so fleeting of moments that had been a year of her hard life, Akasha had done.

Then there was Tsukune: this woman's son had tried to give her comfort or aid on more than one occasion, from kind words to an outright kiss, time and again bringing her breast a warmth that was at once pleasant and all too scorching. She had told herself in the past that his kindness was born of his wish to see Moka again, and escape Akuha's own clutches. It had seemed to make sense this way, although, lately, another voice in her head had taken to whispering doubts on this conclusion, doubts she found she could no more control than the changing of seasons. After all, hadn't he gone above and beyond the call of what was necessary for Moka's sake? And after the tribulations she had put him through?

Regardless, whatever her confusion as to the boy, there was no ulterior motive for his mother's actions and words. This was clear to her. Obviously, Kasumi assumed her to be human, but, even so, this was not how one human treated a stranger, right?

She was abruptly shaken from her thoughts by Kasumi's grip loosening. Akuha withdrew her hands to her lap, folding her mouth in a thin line. Still, words failed her. Were it Tsukune sitting next to her now, offering the same benevolent words, with his big, dumb, charming smile, a sarcastic quip would have come to her as readily as breathing. No such retorts made themselves available with Kasumi. Nor, she discovered with patent confusion, did the desire for them. "I don't know what to say," she murmured, deeply honest.

Watching her blushing guest, Kasumi recalled her husband's words, ostensibly spoken in half-jest, but proving now to be no less than the truth. _"She might be afraid of social interactions, and meeting new people." _Not wishing to embarrass Akuha, she merely laughed and gestured casually. "You don't need to say anything, dear. Now, enough of that. That was a pretty heavy lunch you just had; maybe you want to walk it off outside? I have some things to finish anyway, if you want to be alone." This was true; she suddenly remembered the bloated bin in the other room.

"Maybe, in a few minutes," Akuha replied. Her voice sounded strange in her ears.

Kasumi rose to return to her tasks. Akuha remained quiet as the woman crossed under the mantle to retrieve her dirty laundry. Now that their conversation was over, she could take a minute to gather herself and still her frighteningly pounding heart – a task made difficult by the warbling, sullen voices on the radio. Akuha reached for the remote Kasumi had used; she probably wouldn't mind if she switched it off. There wasn't even anything interesting being discussed. Just some news about a murder victim's body found in a river.

"Terrible, isn't it?" Akuha turned her head at the sound. Kasumi was still within earshot, it seemed. She stepped into the kitchen again briefly, reaching for a note on the counter that contained a list of things she had yet to do. "What's the world coming to? Some people are such monsters, to do that to one another. Oh, could you throw me that dishtowel there? Thank you."

_Monsters. _"Y-yes, you're right," Akuha responded quietly, the report reminding her of one fact more than any other. In all her time here, she had not witnessed any such act of violence.

Some hours later, Tsukune and Kyouko finally returned, bursting through the front door with plastered grins and flushed cheeks, as well as, in Akuha's view, some very strange paraphernalia adorning their heads and hands. Both wore caps with unfamiliar symbols, and Kyouko was wearing a massive foam hand with the index finger sticking up.

"We're back!" she announced grandly.

Upon inquiry, Akuha and Kasumi learned that the pair had been out to lunch, and other places, before suddenly finding themselves accosted by a desperate man in search of his five year old daughter. Apparently she had vanished from his sight while his back was turned. After searching for several minutes, miraculously, they spotted her, just as she was stepping out into the middle of a street. With an awesome speed like a superhero (as Kyouko told it with glowing admiration), Tsukune had dashed forward and snatched the girl back before she had taken even a third step. The man, sweating with terror, but relieved, was beyond grateful, and in a show of generosity, as a season ticket holder had offered them on the spot his pair of tickets to the local baseball game. So they had gone, and had an absolute blast; the real reason being, though they did not say it aloud, that they spent the time together.

"Seems like you had quite an eventful day," Akuha said. Then, muttering: "Baseball…Why does that sound familiar?"

"We did." Tsukune was ebullient. "I haven't been to a game in years. Not that we were expecting any kind of reward for helping that girl, of course."

Kyouko glanced at Akuha, then nudged her cousin with her elbow. "Tsukki, remember? What we brought her?"

"Oh, right! I'd almost forgot." He swung his backpack off his shoulders, and, reaching in, fished out what at first looked like a sort of jeweled pistol. "We stopped off afterwards at this antique shop, and got you this. It's ceremonial, so you probably can't use it for real, but I thought you might like it anyway."

He placed it in Akuha's curious hands. It was not a pistol, she learned, but, tugging on the curved, skillfully worked obsidian hilt, a dagger. Her eyes ran over it, reflecting the shine of the metal and gemstones on the small silver sheath. This was equally bent to a slightly crescent shape, filigreed with beautiful branching and curving patterns; at three places along the metal, an embedded sapphire glimmered tranquilly, each surrounded by a ring of studded rubies that twinkled like stars around the moon. Towards the end, the scabbard sloped down into the carved head of a wolf baring sword-like teeth, and as she pulled a little more, the blade flashed brighter than the rest. Not a genuine relic, noticed Akuha's trained eye, a replication of a nineteenth century model, but still startlingly brilliant and lovely. She looked up in dazed confusion.

"Why did you get this for me?" came the genuine query.

Now it was Tsukune's turn to look puzzled. "What? Wasn't it your birthday the other day?"

"Well, yeah it—Wait, h-how did you know that?" She glanced at Kasumi. "Did you tell him?"

"Nope. When could I have?"

"Well," Tsukune cut in sheepishly, "I kind of just…remembered."

"Remembered from what? I don't believe I've ever told you."

"We were at the game, and…It's kind of embarrassing to say, but…."

Luckily for him, Kyouko found it much easier. "Tsukki saw the cotton candy guy coming around, and it made him think of—"

"I can tell it, Kyou-chan!" Tsukune insisted. "It was…you know, pink, so it…it reminded me a little of Moka."

If he had been expecting Akuha to laugh, or sneer (and he half had), he was pleasantly in error. Her expression was unreadable. What he was not to know was that she had indeed caught the faint hitch in his voice, unnoticed even by himself, when uttering Moka's name. She said nothing. It needed no words. On this, they could understand each other. But now was not the time for such thoughts.

He continued: "And as I was thinking about her, it turned out it was one of the player's birthdays, so it suddenly just clicked. I remembered she had mentioned it to me once, your birthday, and so I told Kyou-chan we should stop somewhere and see if we could find you a gift. I saw the store on the way back, thought it'd be something you would like. I could only afford the cheap knockoff, though," he confessed shyly.

It didn't matter. For the first time since before they had visited Gyokuro, Akuha felt she was at a complete loss about what to do next. The gleam of the scabbard threw specks of light across her face, and she could only stare down at the item in her hands; this also let her avoid meeting Tsukune's gaze. She was not used to facing somebody who had gone out of his way so unnecessarily to put her in the front of his mind, and was not entirely sure how to appropriately express the gratitude bubbling within her breast. Excluding Hayate, nobody else had ever given her something like this before today. She was hardly even conscious of the three pairs of curious eyes watching her. Over and over in her hands she turned the dagger, running her thumbs along the craftsmanship, the gems. Tsukune had been right in guessing her fondness for weapons—not just in battle, but simply to possess, and hold. She had never told him as much, which meant he had observed and deduced it on his own…just from their time spent together?

Her voice was hushed. "No, it's…I mean, you didn't have to…T-thank you. But, why?"

"Akuha, in spite of our differences"—more than this he would not elaborate in front of the others—"I don't know, it just wouldn't have felt right, to let your birthday skip by without getting you a present." And, though he could not say it in front of the others without blowing their cover story, he had wanted to thank her for other things: allowing him to remain home, even at her own expense; and saving his life from the Shinso blood.

"It's gorgeous," she said. Then, looking up at him, patently stunned, asked with strained awkwardness: "Am I supposed to…hug you now, or something?"

"You don't have to," he replied quickly. The question had caught him off guard, but he still imagined she would prefer not to be so obligated. But Kyouko, once again, had other ideas.

"Go on, hug the girl, you doof!" she chirped, patting Tsukune once on the back, then again, but this time with more force, enough to send him careening forward, hands suddenly thrown out in desperation, right into Akuha. Luckily, this time there was no clumsy toppling into a pile on the floor; Akuha had retained the presence of mind to call upon her skill and honed dexterity, dropped a foot back to brace herself, and kept the present in her grasp even as the stumbling boy's arms were flung around her. A quiet fell, and in a few moments, hers had found their way to his strong back as well.

On the surface, it was far from the most physically intimate act the two of them had shared. But, even so, though they were not yet to know it, in times to come it would prove to have left the deeper stamp.

With the next morning's light, to her surprise, Akuha woke taken by quite the pleasant mood. She stretched, feeling the sunlight warm her face, before rising and venturing hesitantly into the kitchen, her eyes still flitting about with their characteristically sharp alert, but a touch softer, to see if she could snag a breakfast. Tsukune could tell how visibly pleased his mother was at their guest's sudden willingness to join them. Neither of them were especially shocked; Kasumi had related to her son what she had done for Akuha yesterday, and the troubles Kyouko had been through, and it seemed that those events had sufficiently cracked the girl's shell of solitude to bring her down like this. Kyouko, however, unknowing, was bewildered; she knew that not once in all these weeks had Akuha sat with them for any occasion. And though she was still slightly suspicious of the girl in such close proximity to her cousin, she couldn't deny the agreeable shift in attitude, especially not after having helped to celebrate her birthday.

Nor could she deny her own hot-blooded eagerness when, Tsukune asking her if she wished to accompany them today, then suggesting that Akuha demonstrate to her some of her fighting style, Akuha actually agreed.

"If you think she can handle it," she said, not demeaningly. And, as both cousins were soon to discover, her words were not without justification. Finding the center's dojo unoccupied for the hour when they arrived, they decided to forego their usual workout and take advantage of the presented opportunity. Kyouko, throwing herself gung-ho into this "training," had adorned herself in full gi and black belt, which even now she fiddled with and tugged to make sure the double knot was secure. Akuha had opted for more casual dress, as had Tsukune, and the two of them now stood watching while Kyouko continued to make her final adjustments.

"She always like this?" Akuha threw the question his way.

"Kind of," he laughed, scratching the back of his head. "I don't think it's a bad thing, though. She's always been praised by her sensei for her dedication, and she was chosen as the top student multiple times."

"That's right, and I didn't get it by being sloppy," Kyouko huffed, straightening her lapels some more. "If you're going to learn technique from someone, it's important to show them respect, and how can you do that if you don't respect the symbol of your commitment and your art's integrity?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry, I won't be offended," Akuha drawled. In all honesty, she was still somewhat taken aback that she had signed up for this. The first voice in her head when Tsukune had made the suggestion had not been the instant refusal she had expected. The memory of the previous day was still fresh, and of course, then there was…Well, no matter of that. The agreement had been past her lips before she realized; she hadn't even felt the urge to retract it afterwards. In times past, the only person she would have so obliged would be Moka, but then….She paused on the thought of her sister, then hurriedly buried it, a habit born of necessity during these seemingly interminable weeks, after eventually discovering that constant fears about Moka, in this time when all she could do was wait, would only damage her abilities.

At last, the girl was ready and warmed up. For the most part, Tsukune let Kyouko hoard the lion's share of Akuha's instruction: learning a new martial art was like Christmas for his cousin, after all, and she gobbled it up like a famished beast, giving all her attention and effort to following Akuha's movements. Nothing less would have sufficed. Even without the Jigen-tou, it was clear that whatever style Akuha had had drilled into her as a child was intense and dynamic as a whirlwind.

The forms would start off simply enough. "Ok, they punch. Block, like this, and your other hand, too. Guide it away, then spin. Drop. Elbow. Right there in the solar plexus. Good." That much Kyouko took with ease. Then, more complicated demonstrations: "They swing. Duck, burst up, knee to gut, chop to neck, other hand, ridge hand to the other side, then somersault, hook your ankles behind the neck, then pull—Up! Check your balance, secure your position, then…!" With a sudden, violent twist of her body, she would tumble forward off the training dummy's shoulders, her feet hurling the poor thing into the air like a spinning top while she landed gracefully on the mat. When the dummy thudded down after her, its head was hanging off its shoulders by a fiber. Tsukune, watching, swallowed anxiously. And as she continued instructing Kyouko, any confidence he had possessed about fighting someone of her caliber, either herself or someone else in Fairy Tale, was somewhat shaken. _All this, without the Jigen-tou, _he thought with awe. _She's amazing. _Meanwhile, he hadn't sparred with anyone in what felt like ages, and no doubt what small training he had consumed was nowhere near enough.

Kyouko, however, seemed undaunted. "That…was…_awesome!" _she would exclaim after each form. "I have to admit, you're really damn good! Where did you learn all this?"

"My teachers in China. My…family had me taking lessons from the time I was very young."

"Aw, man! I wish my parents had signed me up for classes that early."

"Hm, is that so?"

"Of course! I could be at your level by now, if I'd been practicing as long as you."

"Yes, well…It wasn't all fun and games, you know." Tsukune noticed her voice grow distant, and her eyes fix on his cousin with an unusually pensive look. "There are expectations of you. Harsh pressures. And certain things you have to endure."

"Huh? Why are you getting all serious? What's wrong with an early start? Look how strong it's made you."

Tsukune knew what must be simmering in Akuha's thoughts. _Her time with the Miao, no doubt. _Kyou-chan didn't know, naturally, but all the same, no point in letting Akuha relive those memories right now, even if she was used to them.

When he spoke, his voice contained all the bravery of a small child getting his first shot at the doctor. "H-hey, how about showing me a trick or two, Akuha? Kyou-chan's been hogging all your time!"

"Yeah, yeah, I could use a break, anyway," Kyouko confessed, going over to the mirror and plopping down on the mat with an unopened water bottle.

Akuha, her eyes returning to the moment, glanced at him. She was breathing slightly faster than usual, but remained almost as calm and dry as if she had not just engaged in spectacular acrobatic feats. "Sure, if you insist. I hope you're ready," she said, then dragged the now headless training dummy over to the side of the room, to clear more space (it occurred to Tsukune that they would have to pay for it later).

Never in a million years had he imagined he would be in the position of Akuha's pupil. These were strange times indeed. She proceeded to show him more or less the same techniques she had demonstrated to his cousin, this time giving him the more hands on approached. He did not wonder at her willingness in this regard. It didn't matter what fancy strikes, leaps, or throws she showed to him; without a way to counter the Jigen-tou, if they ever did come to blows, he would be as a mouse before a tiger. Even so, as he quickly proved, he was at least able to match, if not outdo, Kyouko's efforts at absorbing Akuha's moves. Not so much in terms of technical expertise, as he lacked her formal training, but in sheer athleticism and power. Although this was aided by the Shinso blood, Kyouko was not to know this, and she gazed on stupefied and watched her little Tsukki pivot, leap, kick so high in the air he could have almost grazed the ceiling with his toe. She recalled how strong he had been during her visit to his school; apparently the time since had only made him more of a man, she thought, grateful her face was already flushed from the exercise.

Tsukune paid utmost attention to Akuha's lessons, trying to glean what he could about her fighting style that he might use to his advantage. He noticed, for instance, that but for the occasional knuckle strike, punches and closed fists were not part of her style; her hands remained open, with a focus on redirection, misdirection, flow and agility, her arms and legs blurring windmills until the opening presented itself for either a strike of snakelike precision or to launch her opponent headlong using his own momentum. Luckily, Tsukune was not subjected to quite that much, once Akuha initiated a sparring match, but he did more than once find his legs suddenly swept from under him, or find that his hold on the strap of her top wasn't as secure as he had thought, as she grabbed his arm, shifted back, pulling him stumbling after her and breaking his grip, then hurling him to the floor. He was thankful he had gone for pants instead of shorts as his knees skidded along the mat.

Then again, she would disrupt his stance, and, off balance, down like a felled tree he went. And again. It began to occur to him, as they clashed, that there was not much force behind her attacks; she would strike him, not lightly, but not with the disciplined power he might have expected. Was she taking it easy on him, he wondered? Did she think he couldn't handle a few cuts and bruises? Yet again, he found himself toppling over, only this time, he was able to catch her foot with his and bring her down with him. They fell with a thud, accompanied by a startled yelp from Kyouko.

"It seems," Akuha breathed against his ear, beginning to feel the exertion, "we keep ending up in this position." Sprawled atop him as she was, their bodies were pressed together, her palms splayed on the floor by his head, his where they had landed against the small of her back, fingers brushing against skin as her top rode up. Her hair tickled his cheek as she shifted, and their eyes briefly met. In hers Tsukune saw the smoldering vitality he had felt from her in times past, one that threatened to seize and dominate his soul as surely as she could his body.

And, as if her words had created the reality, he was suddenly very much aware of their situation. "Y-yeah." Only a couple of nights had passed since the most recent feeding session, which itself, coming as it did the day after their kiss, had been the most brimful with sensual tension. He could almost feel the faint traces of her pallid fangs against his neck and shoulder (for, half from needing another access point to draw forth his raging blood, half, he suspected, from gluttonous craving, she had punctured him more than once). His eyes dropped, and lingered on her lips, parted with small breaths, recalling again the touch of them against his own, as her wet, lissom body had clung to his there in the pool—

"Hey, hey! Knock it off, guys, don't be getting all physical on me!" Kyouko's voice pierced the air like a dart. She had shot up at the increasingly intimate scene before her, and now held indignant fists clenched at her sides. "I knew there had to be something going on between you two."

Gingerly, Tsukune dislodged Akuha from her mount with a grunt; with a dancer's grace she was off and on her feet again in one swift motion. He, not so much. "Come on, Kyou-chan, she just fell on me, that's all. I'm not that shameless that I'd do anything inappropriate in front of you."

"Mhm, I see. So you're saying you wait until you have some privacy."

"N-no, that's not what I meant!"

"Don't worry your little head about it, Kyouko," Akuha interjected then, striding over to the other girl and clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Really, he just makes a comfortable chair, that's all. Handsome as he is, I'm not going to steal him away from you," she assured teasingly. Tsukune went hot at the compliment.

"I-it's not about stealing him," Kyouko stammered. "Like I've said, I just don't think he is ready for an adult relationship."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Seems to me he might be an excellent lover. But then, maybe you would like some proof for yourself?"

Truth be told, before this moment, Tsukune had never seen Akuha toy with anyone else as much as she was accustomed to doing with him. And though her words were clearly intended to get a rise from his cousin, it wasn't like Kyou-chan was completely mistaken….Interrupting her vehement protests of denial, he spoke up, not untouched by embarrassment: "I-if you guys don't mind, I'm gonna take a break in the pool. Akuha's pretty much worn me out." The double meaning was not lost on him. "Kyou-chan, you look ready to go again, aren't you? If Akuha's still up for it, she can teach you some more."

"Very well," Akuha nodded, and Tsukune stared at her curiously. "You ready to go?"

The offer seemed to banish all the girl's concerns about Tsukune and Akuha's potential 'relationship,' and in short order, they were back at it, this time in a sparring match to mirror Tsukune's own, and he off to the locker room to change. He did not notice that it didn't strike him as odd that he had no qualms with leaving the two of them alone together. The trust he gave Akuha that she would not harm Kyou-chan seemed implicit by this point. Moreover, the ease and light-heartedness he had sipped from his homecoming had only grown stronger over the past weeks, and he could not bring himself to risk its disruption in any way imaginable. He had promised himself he would take what enjoyment would be offered from a rare visit home, no matter the circumstances, and by God, he planned to keep it!

The day, unfortunately, had other plans in store.

The locker room was nearly empty when he arrived, save for two older gentlemen overly comfortable with their naked bodies, but they vacated to the pool shortly after, leaving Tsukune alone. Picking a locker, he sat on the bench and began to strip.

A harsh, grating sound drew his attention. His head whipped to his side to find its source, and he rose, startled, at the sight that greeted him. What on earth was a bird doing in here, he wondered? How did it even get in? There were no windows in the room. It was perched on a nearby bench, watching him. Was it a pet to one of those old men who just left? All these questions swirled through his brain as he sat, caught in the searchlight of the animal's blazing red eyes. It was a familiar gaze, as were the grey wings, the snow white breast, the black crest arching along its head, the dark croak of the death knell that abraded his ears as he rose and stepped back, suddenly feeling the chill of spring air and the blue glow of the moon…._The witch's bird, _it struck him. At least, the one that had made its home on her roof, the black-crowned heron. Not just then, either; its grey wings spread, as if to take flight, and he knew it as the same creature he had glimpsed at his own house since, lurking on the fence, vanishing into the sky as soon as it was spotted.

This could be no coincidence. Something was afoot, and by the aura he felt ghost against his gooseflesh, it did not bode well.

Quickly, the wings spread again, and this time carried the bird upon the air, making Tsukune jump and prepare for some sort of attack. Instead, however, it flapped and streaked in the other direction, towards the shower area that preceded the pool. It disappeared behind the bend of the wall. Tsukune did not immediately move to follow; dire warning was warring against morbid curiosity, the latter eventually claiming victory. Shirtless, he went after it. It was only then he became aware of the sound of running water. A shower? He could not recall hearing it when he had entered. Was someone else still here?

"Hello?" He turned the corner, and saw him. Even with nothing but swim trunks on, that mess of wild black hair, wet with the shower's spray rather than whatever grease he usually used, was unmistakable. It had been some time, but not nearly enough to dull Tsukune's memory. "It's…it's you!" His voice came out empty at first, gradually filling with spite. "Miyabi something, wasn't it? From the Snow Village?"

Miyabi turned at the sound of his name, water striking and glinting off his broad shoulders like sparks on an anvil. He looked genuinely surprised, but then his mouth settled into a guilty smile. "How careless of me. Looks like I went and got myself caught. I guess I shouldn't have let this little guy fly around so freely." This regarding the heron that had settled on the shower head. Miyabi spread his arms wide in mock defeat. "Alright, you found me. It's good to see you again, Tsukune."

"So you remember my name, too," Tsukune replied darkly. "That's good, because I certainly remember you. You're the bastard that hurt Mizore!"

"I swear, that's the first thing everyone says to me," he sighed. Then, at Tsukune's look: "Never mind. Let's put the past behind us, what do you say? Get a fresh start?"

"Like hell."

"Well, that ruins my day."

"Cut the small talk. Tell me what you're doing here," Tsukune demanded. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't destroy you right here and now."

That earned a sly chuckle from the other man, who now thought it well to end his bathing, and turned the knob to his side. He pushed some loose strands back from his face. "Always so quick to fight. Is that a very common human trait? Come on, kid. I would advise against that. I really have no desire to fight you."

"I don't care if you're scared, what you did is unforgivable! Plus, you're one of Fairy Tale's people!"

"So is the young captain you've been cavorting with these past weeks." He said it without malice, as a man stating simple fact. Regardless, the blunt words, piercing to truth like an arrow, along with that infuriating smirk, made Tsukune's blood boil.

"That—Don't try to change the subject."

He laughed. "I'm sorry. You must admit it's true, though. Very curious. Well, no matter. Let me first disillusion you about whether I'm 'scared' of you or not."

In the blink of an eye, he moved. In the blink of an eye, his hand, now with very real, bestial claws protruding from the fingertips, was at the boy's throat. Frozen stiff, Tsukune could only stare, wondering what had just happened, and bracing for pain. But none came. Merely a light tap on his flesh from those pointy ends. He looked down into Miyabi's eyes: even now, they sparkled with playfulness and mirth. He backed away after a few seconds, and spoke again. "See, if I actually wanted it, you would've been a goner by now. I hate to break it to you, but you're not nearly at my level, kid."

"Stop calling me kid," Tsukune growled, finding his voice again.

"Touchy, aren't we? My point is, there won't be any combat here. And not only because it would be foolhardy of you to try. I really don't want to kill you, Tsukune. Seriously, what kind of brother would that make me?"

Tsukune fell silent at this. _Brother? What in the world? _"What!?" he finally burst out.

"Well, maybe I'm jumping the gun a little….Future brother, we'll say."

Tsukune's patience was growing thin. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." This, through clenched teeth.

Miyabi's brow went up. "Oh? No one's told you? Not even Akuha? Eh, I guess it makes sense. It's not quite a one hundred percent thing yet, but I'm not worried. I can see you're dying to know. Alright. You know my superior, Gyokuro."

"Of course."

"And I know you're also acquainted with her daughter, Kahlua, a valued member of my squad."

Tsukune nodded, remembering how she had joined them on the airship before vanishing with Moka. This was followed by his mind flashing back to the incident in Yomotsu, where, under the succubus' spell, they had engaged in rather illicit activities together, against their wills. The memory made him grateful he had not yet changed into his bathing suit.

"I've been serving Gyokuro in Fairy Tale for many years. She's a woman who appreciates loyalty, and rewards it where she finds it. Assuming no more fitting suitor miraculously appears, and I assure you, none will, we have a silent agreement regarding who should take Kahlua's hand, and become the newest addition to the Shuzen clan."

Tsukune's mouth pieced the words together simultaneously with his mind. "You're saying…Gyokuro is going to give you Kahlua in an arranged marriage?"

"Bingo. You know, after that whole affair with the snow people, I was pretty miffed about losing my bride. That girl, Shirayuki, she was my ticket to a bit of social status and leisure, even if it was among those frosty wenches. You all cost me that, of course. But don't get me wrong, I'm actually grateful to you for it! If you hadn't interfered…Well, after that happened, it suddenly struck me—and I couldn't believe I had never thought of this before—what about Kahlua? Young, single, the eldest legitimate daughter of the head of the Shuzen family and Fairy Tale, and thus, questions of Akuha aside, potentially her heir? You have to see how quickly the idea grew on me. And of course, speaking as one warm blooded man to another, she is a stunner, wouldn't you agree? The spitting image of her mother."

Hearing this, no rage mustered in Tsukune's heart, despite his hatred for the man. He wasn't wrong. Kahlua was beautiful—hardly surprising, all the sisters were—with looks clearly derived in her case from her equally entrancing, though terrifying, mother. Still, he felt a flicker of pity for the girl, if this was the slime Gyokuro was going to fix her up with. "An arranged marriage, huh?" he said. "You would be lucky. Her, not so much."

Another laugh. "I'm glad you agree! So, you see," he said, coming back to the point, "when the day comes for you and Moka Akashiya to tie the knot, you and me will be brothers-in-law!"

Of all the strange happenings and tidings to which he had been subjected ever since being kidnapped by Akuha, this piece of news was definitely a contender for the crown. How was he to react? It hardly concerned him directly, or even any of his friends, really. It was an ayashi wedding. Sure, he didn't hate Kahlua, enemy though she was, but they had hardly had enough interaction for him to fret terribly over this. Was it even something to fret over? Miyabi was a monster and a jackass, but Kahlua…Well, she was not one to be trifled with. What stuck in his mind more, rather, was the other point Miyabi had raised. "Me, marry Moka?" he echoed, feeling a hot flame lick along his cheeks. Not that the possibility had never crossed his mind, but still….

Miyabi was not offended at the boy overlooking his own union with Kahlua to focus on Moka. "Sure. Everyone knows you two are crazy about each other. If you both survive the war, I doubt there will be any issues. Not to speak out of place, but I think Gyokuro could really care less about that girl's future, or what she does with her life. Akuha, now there might be a hurdle you have to jump, but, well, I'd say you're doing a fine job of winning her over as it is!" He chuckled, clapping Tsukune on the shoulder with what looked like fondness. The touch was cool, and, Tsukune noticed curiously, silky smooth, almost like snake skin.

"If we both survive the war," Tsukune echoed again. Something didn't add up here. "What are you talking about? Even if she doesn't care about Moka, surely Miss Gyokuro's going to try to kill me if she's allowed to have her way?"

"And yet, you survived your last encounter with her, didn't you? With an assignment, no less!"

"That's just because we were-!" He stopped. His mind had raced ahead of his tongue, and there discovered the snag. He looked up slowly from his musings, meeting Miyabi's inquisitive stare. "But wait, Moka is missing."

Miyabi gave him a sympathetic look. "I know. Terribly sorry to hear."

"Not only her. Kahlua, too. So, how can you be so sure you'll find her?"

"What, you think Gyokuro doesn't tell me anything? I know she gave you your mission with the promise of retrieving them after you returned."

"Them? So they are together, Kahlua and Moka…."

"That's how I heard it."

One snag solved, then, but only for the door to open upon more doubts. With this information, Gyokuro's stipulations were making even less sense than before; where could both Moka and Kahlua be, together, that he and Akuha had been unable to locate, where they had not come forth to make themselves known again all month, where Gyokuro was so calm and sure about their safety….Something was missing, he was beginning to feel it in his bones, but whatever it was, it refused to click. He voiced his puzzlement aloud, half to himself, but Miyabi seized upon it.

"Wish I could help ya, but I don't know too much about it myself. I wouldn't worry, though. Gyokuro works in mysterious ways, but if she says those two will be fine, they'll be fine. It's almost like she's got a foresight about these things."

"S-she can't tell the future, right?" he stammered suspiciously. It was bad enough she could already sense presences, but such a skill as this would be an even bigger hindrance to his and Moka's dream.

"No, no, I didn't mean literally." Miyabi grinned. This boy really wasn't that perceptive. He seemed blissfully ignorant of the ruse that even now Miyabi continued to perpetuate. The part about Kahlua and his own intentions towards her were genuine enough, and so with his right hand he had blinded Tsukune to the lie he held in his left. Had it been Akuha with whom he was speaking, he knew she would at least have been suspicious of his story. _Then again, that is why I sought him out, and not her._

"Anyway," Tsukune's voice cut through the damp, oppressive air, "I don't have time or patience for you today. Is that all you wanted to tell me, about your ambitions and your marriage?" Before the man could respond, he realized he had forgotten his initial question. "Wait. That bird, what is it? Your pet, or something?"

Miyabi craned his neck up; the heron still roosted on its perch, making no sound, ruffling its feathers every so often, preening its beak along its snowy breast. "You could say that. He accompanies me sometimes, like a loyal little follower. He's got some scary eyes, don't you think? Normal humans can't see him, but you…you're not exactly normal, are you?"

"Then, does that mean you were there, at the witch's house? And I saw him at my house, too. Have you been stalking me?" he demanded angrily.

"Stalking is such an ugly word. I was just keeping an eye on you, making sure nothing interfered with your task. Gyokuro has a lot riding on its success, after all. Too bad no one told me it was gonna become a month long observational study." He could, at least, tell half the truth.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me what she has riding on it?"

"Maybe someday, when we're family."

"Please don't say that. So, explain why you're here now."

He replied prosaically: "Guy can't go for a swim? Not like I'm a vampire."

Spending as much time as he had around vampires recently, the notion hadn't even occurred to Tsukune that Miyabi might be a different class of ayashi until he mentioned it himself. "What are you, then?"

A detached smile. "Maybe you'll see for yourself one day. But not today." He gestured over his shoulder. "Today is for me and that wide open baby blue out there." With a casual wave, then turned heel and made for the door, leaving a flummoxed Tsukune in his wake, all at once reconsidering his own desire for swimming. "Oh, just one more thing," Miyabi called, looking back at the boy. His lips curled with hollow cheer. "I've been meaning to ask, but which of the Mokas do you intend on marrying?"

"W-what?"

"Well, you can't do both, right? I can't imagine her true version, especially, would condone it."

_True version. _The words bit at Tsukune's heart. "There is no 'true' or 'false' Moka!" he shouted.

"Oh? How would you describe it? You already know that pinkette was just a false personality created by Akasha to help keep her daughter safe, don't you?"

It was something he had tried to forget. Such a heartbreaking revelation had best been confined to the deepest recesses of his consciousness, he had initially told himself. And it had proved unnervingly easy after a while; with his kidnapping, his time with Ura, her assurance that Omote was safe within her soul, then Ura's complete disappearance, he had had plenty of other matters seizing his mind with worry. However the three of them wanted to deal with the issue of Moka's two selves…Well, they would cross that bridge when they came to it, once Moka was safely back at his side. "She's not fake," he muttered. "It's…complicated."

"Call it what you like, I was just curious. Although, it may not be as complicated as you think."

"Huh?"

"I mean you might not have to concern yourself with choosing one and hurting the other. Rumor round Fairy Tale is that the Outer Moka probably won't last too much longer."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ohh, guess you haven't heard that, either. I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this, but yeah. You know that seal was designed to suppress the real Moka. But now they've reversed, haven't they? The real one rose to the surface, the other got trapped inside the seal. All the worse for her, because with the seal broken as it is, there's nothing keeping her soul from leaking out into the ether, like air from a tire, until it completely vanishes forever."

Silence wafted through the room like a cold draft as the two men stood facing each other, broken only by the occasional drip of water upon the tiled floor. Tsukune inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of grubby mildew somewhere, fighting to stay as outwardly composed as his enemy, wondering wryly that Miyabi surely must hear the tumultuous storm swirling within his heart and mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was level enough, despite troubled heart. "Why should I believe that, huh? You expect me to just buy whatever someone like you tells me?"

Miyabi shrugged with indifference. "Hey, I'm just the messenger. I'm not really an expert on this subject myself, so I can't tell you more. But, I'd say I'm doing you a favor."

"Really. How do you figure?" This, icily.

"You have time, man!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms in gesture as if it were plainly obvious. "It doesn't happen instantaneously. It's a more gradual process. You'll be getting her back in just a few days, right? That's plenty of time to maneuver to get that seal fixed before she disappears completely."

"Oh, believe me, whether what you say is true or not, we will get it fixed. As soon as she's back, we'll go find Touhou Fuhai and—"

"Touhou Fuhai? Let's not get ahead of ourselves, here. Don't forget what I said about maneuvering. You still have to deal with Akuha, first. Are you sure she will just let you go?"

In the excited heat of the moment, Tsukune had almost forgotten about the eldest Shuzen, and their…unique situation. It came back to him now like a flick on the ridge. "What? T-that's a ridiculous question. You know how much she cares for Moka. Do you really think she'll risk something like that happening?"

"It's interesting you should say that. See, I was under the impression Akuha only concerned herself with her actual sister, not some creation of Akasha Bloodriver's. Honestly, I doubt it would trouble her all that much if the pinkette evaporated. She might even try to speed up the process herself. Am I wrong?"

Reactionary denial died upon Tsukune's tongue, and he swallowed the corpse. He glanced at Miyabi again. What was he trying to pull here? But, still…_Was he wrong? _the foreboding whisper came in his head. While he and Akuha had not broached the subject, he had always half suspected her intentions towards Omote were indifferent at best. But he could not be sure. Once they had Moka back, would she tolerate the other girl? Try to banish her from Moka's body? It was Ura she loved, but regarding her feelings about the spitting image of the woman she had tried to kill for a taste of power, these were unknown. And yet, the question unnerved him. "She wouldn't…"

Miyabi smiled, attempting to keep the expression genuine. This was too easy. Leading this boy was as simple as a horse and carrot. "I wouldn't be too sure about that. We both know how…passionate she is about her sister. She's not exactly the friendliest to anyone who might come between them." Man, he thought, could this kid sure look grim. "My point is, if I were you, I wouldn't expect her to let me go to Touhou Fuhai to save that damsel you seem to dig so much. Not without a fight."

Tsukune felt the bite of untrimmed nails against his palm. Although he was trying to battle it back down, the storm was rising in his gut, images of losing Omote mockingly imprinting themselves in his mind's eye like a seal on wax. That he had ignored the matter for so long probably exacerbated the effect of this sudden onslaught, though he did not realize this. "I'm not saying I believe you"—he was embarrassed at the crack in his voice—"But what would you recommend I do?"

Again the hand clapped on his shoulder, and Miyabi shook his head. "Wish I could help you! Really I do. But this is a battle you'll have to fight yourself. With her."

Tsukune replied, wryly: "Well, if I really am 'winning Akuha over' like you said, then it shouldn't be a problem to convince her to let us go to Touhou Fuhai, should it?"

"Ahh, yeah, about that…I mean, be realistic, Tsukune. Yeah, I know things must be pretty cozy for you now. You're back home, resting, building up your strength, keeping Akuha unusually subdued—remind me to ask you how you swung that, by the way. She's even getting along surprisingly well with you all, last I saw." At the reminder of his feathered spy, Tsukune frowned. So he really had been checking up on them. Miyabi let his hand fall back to his side, and gave the boy a frank stare. "You've gotten her guard down. It's an impressive feat, though something I would have advised her against. Consorting with humans so freely and at ease…But, you must already know, this cannot last."

The words trailed off into the dead air, where they hung, almost echoing, upon the mist of the recently ended showers, before being swallowed into nothingness. Tsukune felt moisture clinging to his bare arms and brow, but his lips were dry. He could feel his earlier promise slowly slipping through his fingers, to join Miyabi's words in the void. Ironically, he was not furious at the man: Miyabi was only pointing out what Tsukune already knew in his heart, but had been trying to suppress all month, a bit sooner than would have naturally happened. He didn't need Miyabi to explain it to him. These past weeks at home, with his family there, and his familiar life, and Akuha…What they had shared. She had even saved his life, for crying out loud. In a way, he had begun to feel a connection, to see in her a girl who, in another life, could have been a real friend. It had allowed him to forget, because, as much as he was ashamed to admit, he wanted to forget, at least for a time. And so, it was like a dream, like being in a warm bubble floating lazily over a lake's surface…Now here was this mischievous creature, with his point-pricking needle glinting in the sunlight, poking and popping and dumping Tsukune into cold reality.

Miyabi continued, seeing the boy's silence: "The mission will end. You will leave home, and have Moka returned to you. And Akuha will go back to being your sworn enemy. Not your house guest, certainly not your friend, if that's what you've come to think. Your enemy. You know this is all true."

But Tsukune would not give him the satisfaction of agreement. "That's none of your concern."

"You're right, just trying to be helpful. You seem like a smart kid. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

The boy grimaced. The truth of Miyabi's words, already kept hidden in the back of his own mind, now sank their grimy claws into him. What was he to say? That he was wrong, and that Akuha wasn't like that? That she had changed? A foolish notion. She may have seemed to have changed a bit as of late, to the point where one might actually have called her a normal girl, but this was fleeting. Once they were back aboard the airship, with black-suited ayashi wandering around the place, and plans for human eradication resumed, he feared she would return to her old self. As for what that would mean for them, and the amicable peace they now enjoyed….Suddenly sickened by Miyabi's presence, and decidedly out of the mood for swimming, Tsukune excused himself, returning to his locker to get dressed again.

"Sorry if I brought you down," Miyabi called after him, letting a grin tiptoe all the way to his ears the second the boy had his back turned. "I just didn't want it to come as a nasty shock when the other shoe drops! Hey, good talk! Let's do it again soon!" Tsukune uttered some less than polite response, and was gone around the corner.

_That should do it. _Satisfaction alighted his face as he made for the door to the pool. That much had not been part of his orders. Observe—as he had told Tsukune—and report, that was all. Fruitful opportunities, however, could not be ignored once presented. Indeed, the seeds of doubt and fear had been planted easily: fear for his beloved Moka, doubt of Akuha's mind for her sister's fake persona. Gyokuro would be pleasantly surprised. Miyabi had given Tsukune quite a few matters to stew over, and, as the boy discovered his sheer inability in the face of the great events that even now were in motion, they would fester like an infected wound. The best possible outcome would be that they drove him mad, rendering ineffectual someone who had proven a dangerous player in the game so far; but, barring this, at the very least his doubts over Akuha would keep his opposition focused on her; and even if he stood no chance for victory, he did have strength enough to be a nasty thorn in her side, keeping her own attention on fending him off, and distracted from all else that moved. _Right hand shows, left hand moves. _Miyabi smiled coolly. Even Akuha Shuzen could be outplayed, and he intended to prove it. Yes, Tsukune would do nicely, and, Miyabi had no doubt, keep her too busy to come after him once she learned the truth of what lay in store for Moka.

For Tsukune, trudging like a weary pack mule back to the dojo, none of this occurred to him. The seeds were still all that lay in his mind, horrible images of Omote being blown away like a ghost, his name trailing in her wake like the whistle of the wind. Ultimately, he told himself, Miyabi had changed nothing. The plan remained the same as before this homecoming had begun. Get Moka, get the others, get out. No matter how difficult it was to locate the old Dark Lord, they could not fail, even if Miyabi's warning was false. As for Akuha….Any regrets were interrupted as he arrived back in the dojo, where, he noticed with a perked brow, the two females seemed quite finished with their session. For the first time, Kyou-chan looked completely bushed, sprawled out on her back, sighing with heaving chest, her gi in wild disarray. Akuha stood over her, arms folded, looking down with amusement; calm as she was, Tsukune sensed a faint shortness of breath in the vampire. His mind stirred bitterly as he observed how well they were getting on: it seemed he was not the only one who had been seduced by this tranquil peacetime. It did not take much guesswork to know why he had fallen into it heart and soul, but why had she? Surely she realized that everything was about to revert to its original state? As much as he might have wished it otherwise.

The crimson eyes flickered over at his approach, and the pink lips curled in a pretty grin. Walking over, she met him with a soft fist to the shoulder.

"Back so soon?"

"Y-yeah. I decided not to go."

"Well, I think I finally wore down your cousin here," she laughed, gesturing to the prone girl. "She really has a marvelous store of energy, for a"—her voice lowered, and she leaned in close—"you know, one of you guys." She beamed at him, an expression he had rarely seen grace her beautiful features, and her hands went behind her head. "Got to admit, I'm impressed. There are others of my kind who don't last the first minute sparring with me."

Tsukune said something in agreement, only half listening. "_And Akuha will go back to being your sworn enemy." _The echo of the words would not dissipate. Nor would the persistent, troubling question about whether she intended for both Mokas to be rescued. He had no way of being certain; not only had they never discussed Omote before, to his knowledge, she had never even encountered that version of her sister. He watched her with what must have been patently visible unease, for her brows knotted gently and she asked: "Hey, is something wrong? You don't look so good. You feeling sick?"

Doing a double take, he forcibly snapped to attention. Kyou-chan was on her feet in an instant, bounding over to them, concern written on her face. "What, Tsukki is sick? It's 'cause you've been overexerting yourself, didn't I tell you that?"

Frowning, Akuha crooked a finger at him, then, as he leaned in, wondering, rose up on her toes, buried a hand in his hair, and pulled their foreheads together. His eyes found the floor as whatever heat was in his brow cascaded to his cheeks. He could not bring himself to face her.

"Hm, feels fine to me." Her breath washed over his lips as she spoke.

"No, I am, really," he protested earnestly, backing away hurriedly as her grip loosened. The question still burned on his tongue, but it could not erupt forth; certainly not in Kyou-chan's presence, but also because, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Akuha had no reason whatsoever to extend her concern to a girl she had never met, even if she was so closely related to her sister. He chewed nervously at a dry lip. In the end, there was no way to learn the truth except to ask, but…if her answer was not favorable, it could give away and endanger his plan to save Omote, whether from the broken seal, as had been the intention all along, or from complete annihilation, as Miyabi had warned. Akuha was now regarding him with a very pointed look, eyes narrowed in piercing skepticism as they roamed his face, her mouth flat and thin; now that was an expression he knew well, and he cursed himself for his lack of subtlety, for her stare robbed him of any courage he would need to ask such a thing of her. He was not to know that her suspicious gaze was searching for any hint of jagged, blackening flesh creeping out from under his shirt, or that her heart thumped nervously at the chance of such a torrid spell occurring now, of all times. It would not serve, after all, if she had to orally drain the boy's blood with Kyouko right there, or risk him succumbing to the torment.

"In that case," she was telling him now, brushing a stray strand or two out of her eye as it became clear there was no danger, "let me know if you want me to instruct you more." A pretty smirk. "I'm fairly confident I can go longer than either of you."

"Hey, don't be so cocky!" Kyouko protested weakly, though she knew she wasn't in much position to disagree. "Geez, it's like you're a trained ninja or something. Don't you ever get tired?" Akuha smiled pleasantly at that, and Tsukune felt his stomach turn, but kept his tongue behind his teeth.

"I would say yes, but I wouldn't want to lie," she said.

"Yeah, well, don't worry. I'm gonna keep practicing and get stronger, believe me, and someday, we can do this again!"

This time Akuha hesitated. There was an unsettling tightness in her throat, and she fought to suppress it. Her eyes flickered to the ground and back, her smile cool and distant, before at last responding: "Yes. Someday, perhaps."

They finished early that day, and took their rest back home. Kyouko went back to her mother's the next day, giving Tsukune a great bear hug and wishing Akuha well, challenging her again to another match next time they met. "So make sure you come visit again, ok?" she said. Tsukune could not help but read the same distant look in Akuha's countenance as she bid farewell herself.

A couple of more long days dragged by, and, having no further encounters with or even sightings of Miyabi or his familiar, Tsukune struggled to manage his swelling anxiety. Eventually, his lower lip began to ache from the sheer amount he had chewed it. He did not avoid Akuha afterwards, but his spirits were wounded, and there was greater silence between them, such as had never been even when she had first abducted him. In the silence, he grew even more restless, his spirit as tense as a tripwire, waiting to be triggered. All hopes of taking enjoyment from his remaining time at home had been dashed, as his mind revolved ever around Miyabi's taunts and Moka's fate. If Akuha noticed any change in her usually outgoing companion, she made no mention of it; and if, in turn, his reticence fed her own apprehensions, he did not notice. She could only suspect that he was becoming aware of the reality, as she was, that they would soon be at odds with each other once more, any halcyon days they shared a distant memory in the face of war and fate. And always, Tsukune kept his eyes and ears open for the news he longed to receive; any day, surely, the witch would contact them in her own way, and he would burst forth like a bird from a cage.

As it turned out, that day had come at last.

It occurred just after breakfast. Tsukune had gone to wash up and prepare for the day, when the door to his bathroom was suddenly under violent attack, quaking as someone pounded on it, mumbling unintelligibly from the other side, twisting the doorknob with their other hand until Tsukune feared it might break. Dropping his toothbrush on the sink and wiping his mouth on his towel, he stretched for the door; opening it revealed Akuha, not yet dressed, a ferocious scowl completing her ensemble. Her lips were pressed painfully tight, it appeared, and she was flapping a hand at them angrily, noises emanating from her throat but unable to fly as words into the open. It took Tsukune all of a few seconds to guess what was going on. With a wildly pounding heart, he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and asked: "I-is that Strega's silencing spell?"

Her angry growl confirmed his suspicion.

"That must be it, right? Her signal? She's telling us it's ready!" There was no other explanation. _Well, she does have a sense of humor, that Strega. Recasting the spell she knew we would recognize. _"Alright, then, we should get going immediately!" he exclaimed, his brain suddenly on overload. In a way, it was cathartic, to have the long awaited end to this homecoming finally arrive, and somehow restored to him a morsel of tranquility; after the anguish of these past few days, now was the time to move to action, to spread his wings once more and take flight from the cage. _I'm coming, Moka! Just hang on!_

Another squeal from Akuha drew his attention. "Oh, wait, what are we going to do about that? I can't say I know how to break a witch's curse."

Fortunately for her, the spell was set to expire upon acknowledgement of the message; this achieved, her mouth opened mid-growl with a sudden pop. "—swear I'm going to kill that old cro—Oh, hey, it's gone!"

The next half hour was a blur for Tsukune, as he prepared himself to depart. He had not taken anything from the airship to begin with, so there was no risk of forgetting anything important; for a moment, he had a mind to bring a spare set of clothes, at least, so he wouldn't be trapped in the same dress day after day, but then he remembered Akuha, and how she had surrendered that luxury to allow him to stay at home, and decided against it. That kindness may be relegated to history, but it still should be repaid, he thought.

Nobody else was home by this point, nor would they be back for hours, and for this, Tsukune was half relieved. Instead, he found some paper and scribbled out a quick note for them when they returned. As he leaned over the kitchen table, writing, Akuha stood to his back, finally garbed again in her usual black cloak, leaning against the mantle, arms folded against her breast. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the scratching of the pencil, and the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the sounds of neighbors passing outside the open window. She spoke quietly. "You don't mind leaving like this? Not waiting for them?"

"It's alright," he said, not looking up. "Maybe it's better this way. Saying goodbye like this, it would just be too painful."

Her voice was solemn. "You realize you might not…You don't know when you will have another chance?"

"…I will." A pause in the scribbling, and he made as if he was going to glance back at her, but he did not, and went back to the note. "I will."

She hummed in reply, breathing deeply. Little did he know, and she was not about to inform him of it, but she had discovered, to her great apprehension, that the prospect of bidding farewell to her hosts was scarily displeasing to her. Particularly the woman. She cursed her own lack of strength and confidence as the memories of her treatment by Kasumi flowed teasingly behind her eyes; the taste of her birthday lunch flickered dangerously upon her tongue, and her hands were hot and moist. The future loomed on the horizon, heavy with danger and doom fulfilled, and to imagine what might befall those who were swept up in the momentous tides of change…Ugh! What was this twinge pulsing just above her eye? And why did her hand sting terribly? This latter, at least, became clear to her, and she unclenched her fist, removing her nails from the skin. She stared at the boy's back from under the thin, furrowed brows. No, no time for such "might-be's." It should not be a problem, forgetting; she had spent the past many years with her heart a wall of steel, it should not provide a challenge to solder any small cracks she had incurred during the stay. If only the images of Kasumi's smiling kindness would cease their haunting…."Well, maybe it is for the best."

Tsukune was suddenly at her side, and ready to depart. His expression, in extremely rare fashion, was completely unreadable to her, someone who could always tell what an open book like him was thinking, from the very beginning. She had the very brief urge, as they walked out the door, to say: "You know, once it's all over…we don't have to rid the world of all of them. We can keep some as servants, maybe, if you would like," but it quickly passed; she could not form the words.

Tsukune, rather, spoke. "Let's go get her."

Her eyes widened as she glanced at him, and she paused for a moment. The dark eyes were set below that chestnut hair with a clarity of purpose that could have easily been her own. "Yeah." Then, as they went outside, lightly: "Hey, what was up with that story you told your mother about me?"

Kasumi and Koji arrived home later that day, and in no time at all realized the house was empty. The shock was minimal: Tsukune had told them one month, and though they had refrained from discussing it since, it was obvious they would be leaving any day now. Still, it was not easy.

"Koji, in here," Kasumi called from the kitchen. Koji followed, and saw his wife standing over the table, holding a small piece of paper in her hand, reading it over solemnly, letting loose a sigh when she had finished and handed it to her husband. "I wish they had known earlier. It would've been nice to see them off. Oh, and I wanted to thank Akuha again, and ask her to look after him." Her words trailed into silence. Koji, behind her, leaned in and pressed his lips gently to a moistened cheek, and she cradled his head on her shoulder.

"He'll be alright," he said softly. "He's a young man now, don't forget. Say, I have an idea. Maybe we should visit that school of his sometime? We could take Kyouko with us and surprise him. A little family reunion. What do you say?"

"Yes, that sounds nice," she nodded, smiling. "Only, we'll have to rely on her to get us there; come to think of it, I have no idea where that place is!" She laughed, and looked down again at the letter on the table.

—_School called. The break's ending, and they need us to go help set things up for when all the students come back. We're catching the bus there. Sorry I couldn't stay longer, it was great being back. I'll see you guys next time._

_Love, Tsukune_

_Oh, and could you give my best to Kyou-chan?—_

_-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-_

_To be continued…_


	16. For Want of Sanity, Pt 1

**For Want of Sanity, Pt. 1**

It was far too grand a home for someone as small as her.

She had always felt this way, and the same notion now occurred to her as she swayed on her toes atop the plateau, looking out over the embodiment of the wealth and opulence into which she had been born. The house loomed gigantic across the valley, rising from among its pine-clumped outcrop like a dark crown. The towers of polished limestone baked under the bright August sun, breaking its light to throw shadows down into the deep abyss below the causeway; the arched windows gaped black imposingly, and above the spires, as ever, the thin cloud of crows wisped, barking harshly with a cry that at this distance only rang faintly. They were the only living things in sight, as the steep slope of the causeway, and the entrance which it gave on—normally filled with the bustle of servants about their work, and the comings and goings of various guests who sought audience with her father—were completely vacant. Dry clumps of grass folded and crunched under her weight as she watched the birds swerve and careen along in the wind. She could feel a light gust break across her face, streaming through her hair, and she shut her eyes against airborne specks of dirt and the light, mingled scents of sunflowers and pink moss.

When they opened again, the scene had changed. She was on her feet, standing in gloom, a sheer wall of rock to her front and back, rising up. Light from the crack of sky poured feebly down into the valley between her former vantage point and the mansion. The change of scenery did not strike her as odd; indeed, she hardly noticed it had happened. Her mind felt like a blank slate, as barren and featureless as the rock face, focusing only on what was right in front of her eyes. And what this was, all of a sudden, was a gaping maw that had appeared in the bedrock. Her addled mind could not recall if it had been there a second ago, but this was trivial information. She wondered, however, dimly, about this new cavern, and what mystery it might hold; for, though she could not explain why, upon first sight, it had been as if she sensed something beyond the veil. A scratch, ever so delicate, at the base of her consciousness – a call luring her to put one foot forward after another.

"You should leave this place. It's dangerous."

When had that woman appeared before her, standing now between her and the black cave?

"It's dangerous," she repeated, her voice a whisper of air and wind. "It's not for children. Least of all you, sweetheart."

The girl blinked at the affection in the voice. Who was she? Her back was turned, her face hidden from the girl's view; only the frilly flow of a long dress and the curtain of pink hair were visible. But the voice was familiar, vaguely, and gentle, and it puzzled her. She had questions she wanted to ask, tried to ask, but she had no voice herself. She made to grab her throat, as if short of breath, and tried futilely to rub the words out. The wind sighed and moaned along the walls of the small valley, but all else was silent.

The woman turned, and the girl's breath this time did get stuck in her throat. There was no face. No, not entirely accurate; it was blurred, distorted, unrecognizable. The features were there—eyes, nose, lips—but lacking detail, as if viewing them through eyes gorged with water. And yet, everything else was clear enough. The woman spoke again, looking down at her:

"You don't belong here. Perhaps, someday, though I pray that day never comes, you will know…but not now. Please, go back to the manor." There was worry in the airy voice now, as well.

"What do you mean?" she wanted to ask. "Who are you? Is there something inside the cave? I've been exploring this way before, but I've never seen it here."

The words did not come, but she knew the woman heard her all the same. A swarm of bats funneled into the cave, rushing like tendrils of silent smoke into the shadows, and was gone. She could not explain why, but she had the brief impulse to call out to them to come back. "Anyway, I'm looking for someone," she said without words, once it became clear the richly clothed figure was not replying. "Have you seen her?"

As if on cue, the woman bent forward—had she always been this tall?—leaning until her face was just an inch away, a face which was suddenly visible, the surrounding haze shimmering into clarity. The girl's brows went up as instant recognition struck like a thunderbolt. "It's—It's you!" At last her voice was given form. Her eyes scanned the face thoroughly, searchingly, a child stumbling upon a wondrous treasure. But a few moments of examination gave light to the truth. "Wait. No…you're not – never mind. I thought you were someone else, sorry." The woman's face had altered out of recognition, but there was still something familiar about it. She realized, suddenly, that it was as if she were staring into a mirror.

"Who did you think I was, silly?" The voice was playful, and tender.

"I—I—"

"Well, I don't blame you. Because, I'm not here right now. It makes sense if you're confused."

"I…I really don't understand. My mind keeps screaming that I know you, but why do you look like….?"

A sad smile. "Like I said, I'm not really here."

"What does that mean? I can see you right in front of me!"

"I know. I'm sorry." The eyes met the ashen ground, her lids drooping. "I—I was scared. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but….Well"—she took a deep a breath and squared her shoulders, speaking with more sureness now—"Let's just see how it goes, ok? It's been so amazing to watch you come all this way, I mean it. I'm happy for you."

A lump caught in the girl's throat. "Th-thanks, I guess. I still don't fully understand, though. Can't you—huh!?"

In less than the blink of an eye, her companion had vanished, silently, into a stream of wind that whirled along the valley floor, then whispered up and away. In its wake drifted down a last speck of her voice, hushed and airy in warning, to reach the girl's ears. "Be careful. It's coming."

Before she could even move her lips to address the wind and the shadow, the warning was fulfilled. A loud roar jerked her attention back to the cavernous abyss, the rush of a dark gale blasting forth, striking her, tossing her hair and her clothes to and fro. And, following the storm wind, like the shockwave after the flash of a bomb, the choking pitch seethed from the cave, painting the valley walls with terrible shadows, surging around the girl in every direction until the sky was shielded from sight, the only thing visible to her an endless blackness where she now floated, paralyzed by invisible chains of chilling fear. She could not speak again, she could not smell, she could not hear or feel anything with the tips of her fingers. She could not move a muscle. Not even when the _thing _that had appeared in the distance, like a shadowy beast at the end of a dark tunnel, began bounding forward, a feral creature swelling in size as it neared second after second. Thought escaped her; only a single-minded awareness of her terror remained. Before she could take another breath, the monster was upon her, and as the last vestige of her sight was swallowed up, she braced herself, and felt the impact of the mighty charge break her into oblivion.

"Moka!"

Her eyes shot open at her name, and she came back to herself with an equally sudden and violent rush. She discovered she was lying on her back, on a soft mattress with an ornate chandelier swaying lazily overhead, her head molded against a comfortable pillow. She felt life stir along her body, down to her fingertips and toes, and she raised an arm and held it above her eyes, blocking the light and studying her shadowed hand. It was her own again, familiar, not the feathery soft, miniature hand of a child, but firm and strong, with evidence of hard battles etched in the lines in her palm. Indeed, her entire body had returned to its young adult state. She was back in the satin night gown she had been given.

It was a dream, then, she realized. A dream of time long past, a forgotten childhood and a lost home. Not a memory – more like a twisted reflection in broken glass. Everything, the house, the mysterious woman, that terrible darkness….She let her arm flop back down, but as it landed it made contact with something, knocking it away; a half second later, a light thud and a soft gasp brought her up to a sitting position. Kahlua was there, bending down to pick up the dropped cup whose vibrant red contents now bled across the pearl white rug.

Moka watched calmly, sniffed, then said: "Tomato juice? Was that for me?"

"Yeah. I figured you could use the extra energy. We're kind of short on blood down here, so this is probably the next best thing. I've heard you use this at school, so you're not constantly feeding from Tsukune."

"I see." She yawned, and stretched. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were there."

Kahlua rose and faced her sister. "Don't worry, I can get this out easily enough. Besides, I shouldn't have put it so close right after waking you."

Moka noticed that the fair bangs curtaining her brow hung free of her customary tiara. "You didn't wake me, I was already—" She left it unfinished. Ordinarily, she would have apologized more profusely, and insisted on helping clean the mess she made. This past month, however, or whatever accursed length of time had passed with her held as prisoner, had seen an erosion of such affable consideration for her sister.

"Well, did you have a nice nap, at least?"

Moka could sense what deeper meaning lay beneath the question. _Have you recovered after the last ritual? _They were, after all, quite draining, robbing her of any strength she might have otherwise put towards plans of escape, or at least resistance. It was this reality, in fact, that had prompted Kahlua to convince the other two Fairy Tale captains that Moka be allowed to abdicate her dark cell and the enchanted binding chains, and be given a cot in Kahlua's own quarters, to reside there for the remainder of the mission. No need to keep her locked away like a condemned prisoner, Kahlua had explained, not when the repeated rituals had reduced her vampiric power to alarmingly mortal levels. She would take the personal responsibility of guarding her younger sister, she had promised; and, if Moka did try to escape, then she would step in.

Moka was aware of this reasoning and intent. Still, at least the room was comfortable, and lavish – though perhaps excessively so. In all, though, definitely a welcome improvement from her last place of confinement. Not to mention, better yet, here she was not bound in those damnable chains day in and day out, like a cow for milking, let loose only for bodily necessities and when the time came to leave the vessel for synchronization at some site. This much had been Kahlua's doing, and for this, if nothing else, she could be thankful.

"It was…odd," she admitted slowly, still bemused, still with one foot in that deep, lightless valley. At Kahlua's questioning look, she clarified: "The dream I had. Of our old home. And I was a child again, I think."

Her sister smiled. "Is that so odd? It sounds like a nice dream to me. You were so adorable as a little girl, after all."

Moka's lips formed what could almost be interpreted as a pout. "Please. And no, that wasn't the odd part."

"What, then? Oh, was I in it? Or Kokoa, or Akuha?"

"No, none of you. Nobody, actually, except…." Here she hesitated, before dismissing her concerns and relating what had happened in the strange dream world. There was no harm in sharing. Giving it voice actually aided her, she quickly found, in wrapping her head around the mystery, clearing away the sleepy mist that lay as a thick residue within her mind. She told the story, briefly, but passing over that final moment of horror, and consuming darkness, ending instead with a description of the shape-shifting woman she had encountered. "I wasn't sure then," she said, "but now…I think it might have been Omote. My other half," she explained.

"Yes, I remember," said Kahlua calmly. Though in truth she had only met the outer personality Akasha had created once, she had not disliked her.

Moka was still focused intensely on unraveling the dream and its message. The spill on the carpet was completely forgotten. She put a thumb up to her mouth, and gnawed at it absently. "What could she have meant, though? She said she wasn't really there, that she had been scared…That she was happy for me. If she was trying to tell me something, I can't figure out what. It's been so long since I've even seen her. It used to be I just had to peek inside myself, almost like I was closing my eyes, and I could see her, talk to her. But since you brought me here, she's just vanished, somehow."

She suddenly felt the bed dip slightly where she was seated, as Kahlua took a seat next to her. Though Moka's tone was flat, and quite casual, Kahlua could sense the troubled anxiety in her words. For her, too, the stain of juice was now a thing of little concern. "When was the last time you saw her?" she asked, trying to be helpful.

"Back in Yomotsu, I think." Moka didn't notice the lovely color flee from Kahlua's cheeks at the mention of the place she now immediately associated with her forced affair with Tsukune. Any memory of that incident had remained, to her relief, almost entirely blurred and unclear; the hypnosis under which she had been placed had kept her mostly unconscious at the time, with only the barest trace of not-unpleasant flavor upon the back of her tongue taunting her with reminder of the deed. The dark, slender throat began to flush, and, coughing, she covered it with a white-gloved hand, now splattered scarlet with some of the spilled liquid. Fortunately, Moka did not seem to be drifting to the same place of memory, so Kahlua fought her own way free, letting her mouth dimple once more. "It's hard to remember now what we even talked about," Moka went on, tugging at a sleeve on her gown, "but after that time, well, I didn't really reach out to her for a while, and by the time I did, I couldn't find her anywhere. And unless you count this dream version as the real Omote, we've had no contact since."

Kahlua took this all in, willingly, and only when her sister had trailed off did she suggest her own ideas. "She said she was scared about something…Maybe that was a reflection of your own fear? Are you scared, Moka?"

"No," she said flatly. It was partially true. While she did dread the thunderous, earth-shattering trances they were forcing upon her, this agitation was something she could manage. As long as Tsukune remained safe and unharmed with Akuha, she did not feel true fear.

Kahlua was not convinced. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, if you are. To find yourself at odds with your family, to have such opposing goals, it can't be easy for anyone."

"All that means is I have to show you guys your place," she quipped. "Don't think that's enough to get me down."

"Well…what about the other you? Maybe it bothers her, and this dream was her way of trying to tell you that."

"No, I doubt it. She may seem like a softer version of me—and I guess, in a way, she is—but she's got her own fortitude…One I envy a bit," she confessed. "She is strong, so if all this Fairy Tale crap isn't enough to break me, it's not going to break her."

_I don't want to break you,_ was Kahlua's silent, fervent reply. Best not to stray onto more emotional subjects. Instead, Moka continued, ruminating: "She also said she wasn't really there…Maybe that means she wasn't the real one? Ugh, I don't know. Why did she have to be so cryptic?"

"Dreams can be tricky to figure out," Kahlua noted, "and that's if they even mean anything at all."

"Yes, but this was much too specific. There's no way it was just some random jumble of thoughts."

There was a pause, as the dream's mystery held sway over the sisters, almost palpable, like a fog swirling around in the sterile air. Kahlua's eye fell askance on the clock by the bed; much as she would have liked to help Moka in her deciphering, she had other matters to take care of. She told her as much, and, receiving Moka's assurance that she was alright, leaned in, planted a light kiss on her furrowed brow, and rose, gathering the empty glass she had brought and making for the door.

With her hand on the knob, Moka spoke again. "It wasn't just Omote, either. I think…I mean, I thought at first, when I could see clearly, that she looked like…my mother."

The elder girl's back was facing her this time, so again Moka did not see the color momentarily flee from her face. The fear clutched coldly at her heart. If Moka had suddenly recalled Akasha's fate, and Akuha's role in it, there would be a whole new set of problems that could be lethal in this cramped space deep below the sea. "O-oh? I thought you mentioned you didn't remember her all that well." She tried to keep her voice as steady as possible.

"I don't," Moka admitted. "I mean, I can never form a perfect, solid picture of her in my head, even when I've had visions of her before, but…for a moment, it was like I was just so sure it was her. Her voice, the way she told me to go back to the house…Then, of course, she morphed into Omote, so I can't be certain of anything."

"I understand." Kahlua did not turn, but had to consciously stop gnawing on her lower lip, which suddenly felt the nick of her fang. Something else Moka said now piqued her curiosity. She weighed her next words carefully, in the way she had learned from Akuha. "You said this isn't the first time you've seen her in your dreams?"

Moka glanced up, brushing aside a stray lock of silver from her eyes. "What? Oh, well, not exactly." It was now occurring to her that perhaps she should not have raised that point, for the last time before now that she had had even the quickest, thumb-smudged image of her mother was, in fact, in Yomotsu, when she had collapsed quite suddenly in a stressful fit, and glimpsed an unknown, but disturbing scene. This episode, she was perfectly aware, had been in reaction to the uncontrollable, blood-searing rage she had felt towards the succubus Amane for her actions, not the least of which was, though she had been too unconscious to witness it, charming Kahlua into draining Tsukune in a decidedly non-vampiric manner. For the briefest of moments, she genuinely wondered if, even deep down, either of the two had derived any sort of pleasure from the act. Bah, but enough foolishness! she scolded herself. This was not the time. "N-never mind," she stumbled, and murmured: "Just not sure it was actually a dream…."

Letting the subject go, Kahlua went for the door again, relieved that for now, at least, there didn't look to be any problems. "Well, if you ever want to brainstorm or bounce ideas off someone, I'll be happy to help. Oh, and if you would like, I can bring you another glass," she offered at the sudden thought, holding it out in her hand. "You do need your energy, and this is as good a substitute as we can afford down here."

"No sake?" she cracked wryly, at which Kahlua lowered her gaze and peered flatly at her sister through the soft lashes.

"You have a couple of years yet for that, sweetie."

"You're kidding, right? I could certainly use it right about now. It's not like I haven't had it before, you know. And I think you owe me that much." Through her words, however, Kahlua just shook her head back and forth. Seeing she wasn't going to cave, Moka sighed. "Alright, alright, have it your way. Juice, fine, thanks."

Her sister smiled. "You got it. Don't be pouty. Back in a few."

"I'm not pouty," she growled, but again, Moka had been left to her solitude. Flopping back upon the mattress with a great sigh, her moon-kissed locks spilled out behind her head, bangs drifting over an eye to shield against the intense light of the chandelier. She flicked a glance over to her wrist, as if she were half-expecting to see a shackled looped tightly round the fair skin, but, with her new lodgings and Kahlua's assurances, that major irritant, at least, would be a thing of the past. As for the future, and the last remaining synchronizations she would be forced to undergo, however many or few were left, well, there was nothing for it at this point but to gather her strength and brace for the upcoming trials. If, at any time, she spotted a crack in the door through which she could slip, she would smash it wide open, and scour the ends of the earth to find Tsukune again; if not…she preferred not to consider the consequences of that road. For now, before it slipped fully through her fingers, like the sands of dreams often and hastily do, she needed to decode what that woman—whoever she was—had been trying to tell her.

"Where the hell are you, Omote?" she muttered, gazing down at the rosary at her breast. She did not suddenly expect an answer, and none was forthcoming. Her mood soured.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The trip back to Strega's gloomy shack was, to the relief of both Tsukune and Akuha, mercifully brief. Remembering the address, the pair had taken a bus—that much of Tsukune's letter to his parents was true—back to that neighbourhood. To his mild surprise, although they were not the only passengers aboard, Akuha did not make much of a fuss, even taking the aisle seat just an arm's length away from a dozing old man without remark, leaving Tsukune to the sheltered window seat.

As it was just under an hour's drive, Akuha could not help but sink into a quick nap; Tsukune noticed, and a few times half-expected, from the way her head drooped and rocked, for her to slide over onto his shoulder or lap again. But she never toppled, and the bus bumped along, and soon enough they reached their destination.

The place looked only slightly improved in the daytime. With the sun painted high overhead, the roof still showed moldy and decrepit in places, and the windows to the sides of the main entrance were still impenetrably black. As for Strega herself, whether or not she was pleased to see them again, or indeed, whether she viewed their return any differently than finding something unpleasant in her ear, was hard to gauge. She welcomed them in gruffly, their purchase already in hand, as if she had foreseen their imminent arrival. Payment had already been covered by Gyokuro, though the prospect of money didn't to do much in assuaging the old woman's mood. Tsukune's, at least, was buoyed by the notable absence of the monstrous wolves that had so unnerved him last time; if they were elsewhere on the grounds, awake and roaming, he did not want to know.

The item they received, whatever it was, must have been either delicate or dangerous, or both, for it was enclosed firmly in a small capsule. A bizarre device to the human's eyes, it practically beckoned him to activate it and reveal its hidden contents. Perhaps noticing Tsukune's curiosity, Akuha was the one to quickly swipe it from the witch's grasp. "I doubt Gyokuro would want us peeking," she explained sternly. "We're not going to mess this up. We take it to her, be done with it, and get Moka back."

He agreed, and so their transaction was concluded, and after a short walk out of town, mirroring how they had first entered this peaceful time of sanctuary all those weeks ago, they were greeted in a vast, isolated clearing by the now familiar airship, lying in wait like a great, slumbering beast, swathed in shadow. Even so, compared with other times he had seen it, Tsukune could feel no traces of ominous dread at what turns his path would take once he set foot on board that vessel. Even the dragons, floating as ever around the blimp-shaped structure, lazily flapping and diving with little apparent care for anything else, didn't faze him. His sole destiny now was clear, and it imbued him with an unexpected confidence.

It was, furthermore, a pleasant surprise to be greeted by Hayate as they hiked up the boarding ramp to the rear of the enormous gondola the crew had affectionately dubbed "the hangar;" the man appeared in the entryway decked in full Fairy Tale regalia, looking quite impressive and formal to Tsukune's eyes. A long month of absence had passed, but even so, Tsukune had already come to view Hayate as the only person on the ship around whom he could let his guard down and be entirely safe (although his comfort levels around Akuha had unconsciously swelled as well, over the past month). With a smiling nod to Tsukune, a sharp salute to his captain, and a brief word of welcome at their safe return, he dropped back behind Akuha as she strode forward, taking the lead as the trio, flanked for a few moments by a small detachment of her guard, entered the craft.

"So, any developments while we were gone?" she inquired.

"Well, you missed a lovely birthday party we had for Milly. I saved you both some leftover cake, but the mess hall has earned its name, unfortunately. We've been working round the clock to—"

"Not what I meant," she grumbled, though not unkindly. "Mission critical only, Hayate. Focus."

"Ah. As to that, no, it's been pretty quiet on all fronts. There have been a few reports from some of the other squads, nothing urgent, but…certain things are stirring in the wings…I can tell you about them later." His glance at Tsukune beside him made it clear he was hesitant to discuss these matters in the open, despite any fondness he had for the human. Akuha's grunt confirmed that she understood. Changing the subject, and his tone, he turned to Tsukune and asked, pleasantly: "So, what about you guys? How was your little extended vacation? It was your first time home in a while, yes?"

"Y-yeah," Tsukune said, "it was. It was…relaxing, honestly. The wait has been difficult, don't get me wrong, but it was nice to see my family again and spend some time with them. I'm grateful that Akuha let me convince her to have that, actually."

"Oh?" He sounded amused, turning to his superior's back. "Yes, that was a very generous gesture, Miss Akuha. And did you manage to have at least a teensy bit of a good time? A day, even?"

They had reached the lift at the rear end of the hangar, and as the two men entered after Akuha and situated themselves once more behind her, visible for a brief second was her customary scowl, and cheeks splashed with a touch of red. "Hmph. Can the chatter. We don't have time for trivial reminiscing, you two," she said, shortly. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed with something like relief. "I haven't taken an actual shower all month long, for this kid's sake. I want to go up to my room, turn the water on, and not have to worry about disintegrating."

Hayate grinned as they exited the elevator. "Come now, surely it couldn't have been all that bad an experience. I think staying at a human's house for a month sounds like an exciting experiment!"

Akuha threw him a narrow look over her shoulder. "Yes, I'm sure you would get a kick out of it."

"Well," Tsukune interjected, "whether or not you got any pleasure during our stay, Akuha, I want to thank you. It meant a lot to me, and like I said back then, I owe you. If there's anything you need, if I can do it for you, I will."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said abruptly, almost before he had finished his sentence. Her voice sounded strained. Then, quickly switching the subject: "Hayate, please alert all the other staff I am not to be disturbed for the next two hours. Oh, and of course, chart a course for the Floating Gardens. We got what Gyokuro wanted"—she held up the capsule that she had been personally carrying—"And like I told Tsukune, I don't want any funny business screwing up this retrieval."

Hayate's smile dampened at that, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but thought against it, and nodded and agreed to her orders.

Within the next couple of minutes, then, things were as Akuha had wished: she had taken leave of the others outside her door, allowing Hayate to carry out his tasks before escorting Tsukune, presumably, back to his own room while she was recuperating—or wherever; she did not much concern herself with that. She entered, and took in the scene with deep appreciation; her eyes slid shut, and she inhaled strongly, letting her muscles fully and completely unwind. And then—a jingle, a patter, and she was thrown off her feet. Landing with a thud and a groan, she looked up to see the familiar, panting, tongue-wagging visage of her old canine friend.

"Earl Grey! What are you doing here!? Ah, wait, _wait! _No, off, get off me, boy. Come on, there you go. Up!" Groaning again, she rose, dusting herself off and lighting a hand on the dog's head. She was glad for the privacy, as she felt no qualms about letting her eyes sparkle and her lips spread in joy. She sank back to her knees and cradled the furry head. "What are you doing here?' she repeated. "I thought you were back in Qaidam." With Earl Grey getting on in years as he was, Akuha had recently made the decision that life aboard this hectic airship, spending so much time miles above ground, was too much for his constitution, and had, with regret, given him to stay with members of the Miao in the region. A wet tongue slithered out and dragged across her hand, and she wiped it off along his back. "Who brought you here, boy?"

The answer to that question would have to wait, she supposed, and come from elsewhere. Glad as she was, she had not forgotten her desire, so, ordering her well-trained companion to rest on the soft bench at the foot of the bed, she took her leave and undressed for the much craved shower.

Stripping free of her ill-washed clothes and stepping into her own bathroom was like loosening a ponderous chain around her body, and with the first burst of spray dousing her throat and breast, it crashed and clattered down to the floor.

Home at last, then. Well, sort of. This ship had become like a true home to Akuha over the past few years. She had come to intimately know practically every square inch, every nook, every obscene scrawl on the restrooms' walls. Not so much every crewmember, although, honestly, who had time? In truth, Hayate was the only one she had spent any prolonged period of time with…although there was certainly Tsukune now, as well. She could not recall the last time she had spent so many days together with someone. And a human? That had never happened. Could have never happened, she would have thought. What a bizarro world her life had become, she mused, that her closest companion in recent times would have been one of her sworn enemies.

Her mind revolved around the boy more, the water splashing upon her brow, spilling past soft lids and drawn mouth, down over creamy throat and pert breasts and flat stomach. By the time she sloshed out onto the mat a clean, dripping mass, she had spent a disturbing amount of time reflecting on their past month together, the moments they had shared, both casual, and those less so. Her stomach, moreover, felt looped and tugged in an uncomfortable knot; focusing all her mental discipline on trying to banish this sensation, before she knew it she was dry and dressed in a fresh evening gown, settling Earl Grey back on the floor with a comforting hand on his snout, and preparing for a brief, rejuvenating nap.

A gentle knock at the door threatened to interrupt this marvelous plan. Already lying down, Akuha craned her neck off her pillow and said, crossly: "I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be disturbed for the next"—her eyes drifted towards the clock—"hour. Go away." The knock came again, rather, and if the calm raps were intended to mollify this would-be intruder's superior, it wasn't working. "Are you deaf?" she said, louder now. "I said beat it. Didn't Hayate inform you guys?"

At that, the door slowly creaked ajar, and the man himself peeked his head through, smiling. His tone was hushed, but pleasant. "He did indeed. Sorry, Miss Akuha, but I just had it in my head that I should swing by with those reports now, so you could be done with them and take the rest of the night off. But if you truly prefer, I can wait and return later."

Had it been anyone else who had so boldly stuck his face into her room without invitation, with her in such a casual state, they both knew, he would have walked away with several injuries of varying severity. As it were, she merely propped herself up on her elbows, holding for a moment the stern frown aimed at her subordinate, before sighing and motioning him forward in surrender. "Fine, fine. Yes, that's a good idea. What is it, then? No serious trouble, you said?"

He closed the door behind him. "I was telling the truth. There's no news to get alarmed about. Like I said, things were pretty quiet while you were gone. It's more…There's been some strange activity from some corners of Fairy Tale. The captain of the fourth division informed me of it when she was here—"

"Routier? That brat was on my ship?" Her exasperated interruption, almost reaching a whine, wasn't actually born out of any dislike of the horned girl; only the inconvenience of now having to make sure none of her subordinates had been haphazardly sawed to bits during one of Routier's 'playtimes.' "Please tell me she didn't leave me with half a crew."

"Not this time, thankfully," Hayate confirmed cheerfully, standing before the bed, eschewing the plethora of seats. "Although, I did have to quickly reassign one of the custodial staff she was close to drooling over….Never mind that, though."

"And you? Did she give you any trouble?"

The man found it an amusing question. Perhaps, had he not been with Akuha Shuzen all these years—grown used to handling himself and keeping a purposeful poise around people of that disposition and temper—he would have approached a meeting with Routier, his responsibility in his lady's absence, with nerves as abuzz as her chainsaw. "Not at all," was all he said, simply. It was merely a matter of conjuring up subtle ways to encourage the young captain to make her visit as short as possible.

"Good. There's a first time for everything, I guess. Alright, what did she say?"

The news was, though indeed not urgent, curiosity piquing. Hayate related how their esteemed guest had let slip (thanks to a well-placed bit of vodka in the small captain's preferred glass of milk) details of the movements of other squads within the organization. Five and seven, in particular: their leaders, the taciturn Lester Reilly and the slippery Lagunov, both men with whom Akuha had worked briefly before on different occasions, had been spotted by Routier's spies, with some of their crew. Curious movements, she had told Hayate for him to relay to Akuha (everyone in Fairy Tale knew the long time servant acted as her proxy when she was absent). For whatever reason, they seemed to be globetrotting quite frequently as of late, acting on whatever impulses or for whatever purpose they thought appropriate, even though it was understood among the division leaders that now was the time to lay low, and wait for the next stage of the plan to begin, so as not to jeopardize it with any stupid independent actions.

Darker news, still: the captain of Squad One, long suffering a debilitating condition, had at last, it appeared, succumbed to his illness. Akuha was grimacing in blatant distaste before Hayate had finished the sentence. She knew what it meant. She had liked the man well enough; he was a pleasant fellow, but more than that, she was always grateful that he was the one in charge of that squad. Dealing with him was infinitely preferable to the alternative, his direct subordinate, Miyabi, who now, as expected, had been swiftly promoted with little fanfare or ceremony. That undisciplined, opportunistic worm; she wouldn't be surprised if he had had a hand in his captain's passing, and she said as much.

"Whether that is the case or not," said Hayate, "since his promotion almost a month ago, he's gone pretty quiet. Not much activity from his division, by all accounts. Routier heard from Lady Gyokuro that he's been making visits to the last holdouts in the ayashi world, to try to bring them to our cause."

"Hmph. Him, a diplomat? There's a catastrophe waiting to happen. What a waste of time. Come to think of it, has he even tried locating Kahlua? You would think such a valuable member of his division missing would be a top priority."

"That I do not know."

"Well, maybe it's for the best. I've seen how he eyes her sometimes, watching her like a lustful monkey. Kahlua is ten thousand times out of his league. He should try to find a mate in the sewers, where he belongs. Though the rest of the rats might be offended by the stench."

"Strong words," Hayate mused. "I won't say I'm fond of the man myself, Miss Akuha—"

A sharp wave of the hand cut him off. "Hayate, I've told you. You don't have to bother with the 'Miss' when there's no one around. Honestly, it can get a little irritating sometimes. You've known me long enough for it not to always be necessary."

"Apologies. Force of habit. In any event, that about covers my report."

She thanked him, and it was understood that the meeting was concluded. No command needed. Hayate turned to leave, but stopped shortly on his heel. Something had caught his eye on the small nightstand near the bed. What he took at first to be a gleaming, antique flintlock, he soon realized was a rather lovely old dagger, sitting all alone where Akuha had placed it after removing it from her pocket earlier, with gemstones of various quality ensconced in the wolf's head scabbard.

"What's this here?" He didn't want to pick it up without her permission, merely letting his fingertip ghost over it. What he did not expect was the visible mortification in his mistress' eyes and cheeks when he turned to her. That was a face she did not often make. "This is Qing, isn't it? Ceremonial. I've seen ones like it in pawn shops before."

"I-it's nothing," came the mumble and the averted gaze. "Just a birthday gift from Tsukune."

Ah, so that was it? He could have some fun with this. "My, my, what a thoughtful young man! He must care a great deal about you. And you him, to keep this so close to you," he hummed, a lilt in his voice. "You must agree, with how red you're going."

Akuha threw a defiant look back at him. "I'm not—what? How absurd. Don't get cheeky with me, Hayate! Don't forget your place here."

He practically sang. "Terribly sorry. Yes, you're right, I lost my head. I wonder, maybe you're showing signs of a fever? Do you want me to call Tsukune and have him take a look?"

A pillow between the teeth answered him, and as he caught it sliding off his face, he could hardly contain his laughter. Akuha, meanwhile, looked horrified, her throwing arm remaining hanging over the sheets. Her voice was strained with incredulity. "You are…so, _so _lucky I've known you so long, and still need you around!" Even so, his words reminded her of the times that she had presided dutifully over Tsukune's own incandescent fevers…In fact, if her estimation was correct, he should be due for another fairly soon.

"Indeed, who would maintain your ship and crew while you were gone if you got rid of me?" His jovial tone was beginning to drive her nuts. "Speaking of which, I noticed you didn't ask me earlier for a full rundown of all our stores."

"You're right. Did I need to?"

"Like you said, you know me," he smiled.

"I do."

They let the words hang in the air for a moment, before he said: "Although, I suppose if not me, you could always have Tsukune manage things around here. Then you would have even more time to spend together—"

"Alright, alright, enough! I get it, very funny! Don't think I won't demote you." There was warning in her voice and wild energy in her eyes. "It was a present, that's all. Moka told him, so he just picked it up to be polite. No need to look deeper than that." It was a lie, but she couldn't bring herself to relate the accurate version of events.

Nevertheless, Hayate was not buying it. He turned the replica over in his hand, examining it with curiosity and, his fingers brushing over the sapphires, appreciation. "Interesting. I don't know, this doesn't seem like a mere obligation to me."

Akuha did not offer a retort to that, but instead flopped back and knocked a wheeze out of her pillow. Hayate put the glimmering gift back on the stand, and walked over to the bedside, kneeling down to the young woman's eye level and threading his fingers through the dog's soft mane. "I'm sorry, I'm teasing you. Couldn't help myself. It's not every day I see you like this, after all."

She rolled her head over this time, the shadows under her eyes signaling her growing readiness to sink further into the mattress. "What do you mean, 'like this'?" she asked warily. Here he was again, fussing over her.

"It's been a while, is all. I have to confess, it might not have been my responsibility or even my place, exactly, but I was glad to see you find some measure of happiness in that old house, with all your little friends, given what you had been through before your arrival, and what was expected of you by Lord Miao. I know it's probably silly of me to reminisce like that, and you were a child then, without all the burdens of the world upon you, but once you came to Fairy Tale, and embarked on this long journey—before that, even, ever since….Well, I don't know, it just seems to me that the carefree spirit of the little mischief maker I used to have to wrangle in for supper has gotten lost somewhere along the way."

The head rolled back, and eyes gazed incuriously at the ceiling. "Is it that strange? Like you said, I was a child then. No one stays the same. Everyone has to face their destiny eventually, especially when it's thrust on you so"—she stopped abruptly. When Hayate peered over, her eyes had widened, tugged open as if by unseen phantoms, and she quickly shut them and squinted the ghosts away. The next thing she felt was the warm hand on top of hers. Though no longer a frequent gesture between the two, she did not feel like pulling away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. But you're right. You're not a child. I know that all too well. My only point was, when it comes to Tsukune…I've simply noticed something in you that I haven't had the privilege of seeing in ages."

"What?"

He smiled, but did not say, merely patting her hand. Indeed, it was no longer a frequent gesture; it had been a long time since he had sat by a young girl's bedside in that grand mansion, whether she had any interest in his presence or not. She had been sent to his master's abode by her father, like no more than a common slave. Perhaps, then, that was why…."No matter. If you tell me I am totally off base about you and Tsukune, I'll believe you, and let it be. Sound good? Now, you look about ready to pass out. How about taking a good rest before we land?"

"Maybe I will. Oh, wait, I almost forgot. I have to get in touch with Gyokuro," she said, suddenly lifting herself, only to be stopped by Hayate's hand on her shoulder, and gently guided back down.

"Don't worry. I already took care of it. Like I said, feel free to take the rest of the night off. Everything is under control. We will arrive in just a few hours, so tomorrow you will be fresh and rested. You want to be at your best when you welcome your sisters back, don't you?"

"Yes, that," she mumbled distantly. "You know, now that you bring it up, I've been wondering for a while now. Why is it Gyokuro's been keeping Kahlua's location secret as well?"

"Honestly, I've never been one to guess at what spins around in you Shuzen's minds."

Akuha appeared deaf to his light remark. Her ruminations were beginning to shove back the creeping tides of sleep. "And the more that I have thought about it, the more it seems inescapable that Gyokuro might somehow be involved in all this. Think about it. She said she knew where Moka and Kahlua were, and that she could sense they were unharmed. But what kind of guarantee was that, especially after we learned the mission would take a month? She couldn't take a risk like that, not with Moka. And now, if Tsukune's violent seizures are any indication, she is already being put through the next phase, ahead of schedule." Hayate raised a brow at the mention of seizures, but did not question her, as she continued. "If they're back in Fairy Tale custody, that means whoever took them…I have to imagine they were after a ransom…which Gyokuro could either have paid, or completely ignored and retrieved them by force, and is now keeping Moka as part of some asinine 'test' of my abilities. Which I passed, by the way," she said with some satisfaction.

Hayate's mouth was set in a grim line. "Those are some pretty severe accusations."

But again, Akuha ignored his comment and continued: "Even setting that aside, like I said there is still the issue of Kahlua. She is still Miyabi's officer, so why hasn't she been returned to her own division? You would think Gyokuro would have done that by now." She let out a ragged groan of frustration. "Who knows? Maybe I'm completely off track."

"I think you're worrying too much," Hayate offered. "Let the matter rest for now. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and I'm sure Lady Gyokuro will tell you anything you ask." Convincing her of the rationality of the idea, his eyes took another swipe at Tsukune's present, and he chuckled. "Still, I knew you could survive the month with Tsukune. Actually, I'm more surprised that you agreed to it in the first place."

"I-it was a whim, alright!" she spouted. "He begged me, and I decided to oblige him. Besides, you have no idea how irritating it was to have to fill each bath with herbs and clean it out afterwards."

Hayate tisked, then nodded appreciatively. "At least you got a small birthday celebration out of it, including this nice little trinket. And on that subject"—at this he patted his leg, drawing Earl Grey's attention and affectionate tongue on his knuckles—"Don't think I forgot your birthday either."

"So, it was you? I thought so."

"I figured it had been a while since you had seen him, so I made a quick pit stop to pick him up."

A rare smile pulled at her mouth, and she was about to say something, but it instantly evaporated at the sudden heave the entire room seemed to give, rocking both occupants and nearly throwing Akuha out of bed; a harsh blaring soon followed. A few seconds later, with Akuha having leapt like lightning from her bed, another knock urgently banged at the door as Hayate reached for the handle.

Tsukune stumbled into the room as soon as he was able, panting, as the ship—for it was evident now that the rocking was hardly limited to one room—shook again. "What's going on?" he shouted over the noise. "I was on my way over when the alarm went off!"

"It's an attack," Akuha flung back as she bounded past him, grabbing her cloak from the closet and throwing it on, her fatigue instantly evaporated. "Some welcome home party. Hayate!"

"Right!" The man dashed after her, and, after a moment of confused hesitation, Tsukune rushed after both of them.

"Attack!?" he called out desperately. "How? Who would even dare to attack this ship head on? Especially so close to your headquarters?"

"Someone very, very foolish, clearly. We'll find out who the unlucky scum is when we get to the bridge," she said.

The bridge, when they arrived, turned out to be just as chaotic as the corridors and emergency stairs they had zoomed through. Officers shouted orders across to each other, racing back and forth to the control panels, and the wide front window, trying desperately to get a look at their enemy (one of the disadvantages to the protection the armored gondola offered: it prevented a panoramic view, increasing their reliance on radar). Red warning lights accompanied the siren in here, and the combined racket was quite overwhelming. Tsukune had to fight to keep his footing as the ship shook again, though it hardly seemed to even stumble the two vampires racing ahead of him. "Ugh, I know, Akuha makes sense, but how the hell is Hayate able to manage?"

Akuha ignored the wheel, where the poor pilot was assailed by the shouts and commands as he tried to stand firm, keeping his white knuckles glued to the wheel, trying to maintain some semblance of a steady course as directions were thrown his way; surprisingly, she didn't even attend to the navigation efforts. For her, instead, was the small elevator to the room's side, the exterior of its shaft ascending briefly before disappearing into the ceiling.

"Wait, where are we going?" Tsukune demanded as he was squished inside by the contingent of guards Akuha had silently summoned to join them. Among them he recognized the young woman Lanfen, Hayate's often worry-prone associate; he could detect the anxiety in her firmly set countenance, though beneath the verdant green eyes gleamed with a steely resolve.

"Up," Akuha said simply. "We can't see what we're fighting, and whatever it is, it's zipping all over the radar. This lift will take us outside for a front row view."

Indeed it did, as Tsukune was about to see. The elevator opened upon a walkway, at the end of which was a ladder that led up to a hatch. "Are you sure this is a good idea? We don't know what we're up against," he said.

Until this moment, Akuha had been a woman in motion, not breaking her stride for a second from the time they had left her chambers; even on the elevator, she seemed to eschew stillness, like a generator humming with energy. Now, however, she paused and turned to face Tsukune with a surprisingly easy smirk, considering the situation. "What, scared?"

"D-don't be ridiculous," he shook his head. Anxious, yes—this was only his second time about to face an enemy on top of a moving aircraft miles above the ground, and he didn't relish it any more than the first—but even so, it wasn't like he could admit to that with all these soldiers present. Especially not when he was presumably stronger than the majority of them at this point. "I just want to make sure you don't do anything reckless!"

To this, Akuha had no response but a pointed stare, and Hayate a smile of his own.

"They're attacking my ship," she growled after a moment. "It will be the last thing they ever do. That's not reckless. It's a promise."

Then, she was up the ladder in the blink of an eye, and Tsukune had no choice but to follow. The others trailed behind them, rifles strapped over their shoulders.

Tsukune emerged atop the ship's hull, and immediately fought to establish his balance, not an easy task against the harsh, buffeting winds that assaulted his face and eyes and flooded his lungs, like waves of a stormy sea. Once his feet were set, and his breathing steadied, he was able to join his gaze upon the source of the chaos.

"Well, they don't look so lazy now," was his first private thought.

To all sides of the craft they swarmed, outlined against the sun like small black clouds, their chilling shrieks a sharp contrast to their imposing forms. From one of the dragons' mouths burst a fireball, exploding against the ship's side with a concussive force, and this time knocking everyone off balance, though they held their ground.

"What the—! What's gotten into them?" Hayate exclaimed over the tumult.

"Your dragons!" Tsukune said. "I thought they were there to protect the ship!"

Akuha glowered ahead at the winged serpents. "Yes, it's standard procedure. Every crew is assigned a pack for their vessel. They do come in handy sometimes, but—Damn it, this has never happened before. Alright, listen up!"—this, to everyone—"They haven't pierced the envelope yet, but it's only a matter of time before they bring us down. No mercy, I want them stopped. Dead or alive."

The soldiers nodded, and took aim, opening fire; even when the rounds hit their targets, Tsukune could see they did comparatively little damage against the dragons' tough scales. Then again, with Akuha and Hayate now bursting ahead, the former's hands primed in Jigen-tou position, perhaps the troops were just there for support. "Wait!" Tsukune cried, sprinting to join them, "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't really have time for detailed instructions here!" Akuha called back. "You can fight, can't you?"

Sure, he could, but…Humans and ayashi goons were one thing, but dragons? They were impossibly fast, zipping and dodging every which way, and surely just as strong! How was he to fight creatures like this?

Akuha clearly didn't have such reservations. Up she flew, charging headlong at one of the oncoming beasts, who, spotting her, dove in for a quick kill of what looked like easy prey. It did not even attempt to swerve aside as they closed on each other, instead stretching its hungry jaws with its several rows of teeth primed like blades; wider they spread, wider still—then they split apart at the seams, and the severed cranium went spinning off into the ether in one direction, its bloody tongue in another. The monster's carcass bounced clumsily along the top of the ship, right to the edge and off into the empty void, plummeting thousands of feet below until it was eventually out of sight.

The soldiers were disciplined enough not to cease their attack—and surely, thought Tsukune, they had likely seen such feats from their leader before. As had he, but it was still terrifying to see such a magnificent creature slaughtered so easily by so small an individual. He gulped, and absently wondered if they would later descend to the surface to clean up the bodies before any humans stumbled upon them.

Not that the slain dragon's companions would go down without a fight. Animals though they were, they were not stupid, and knew enough from the demonstration to keep away from their former master, instead snarling savagely with roars that quaked the skies and split the clouds, unleashing a swirling inferno upon their enemy; Tsukune shielded his eyes against the incandescent glare, and felt the burning heat lap at his flesh.

The storm lasted for some moments, but when the flames and smoke had cleared at last, there was no charred, crisp corpse where the dragons had focused their fury. To Tsukune's amazement, there stood Akuha, back to him, cloak fluttering in the wind, looking completely unscathed; in that moment, the power he felt exuding from her was overwhelming, and she seemed to loom over them all like a gigantic shadow. Even the troops had taken a temporary pause in awe. His ears were just sharp enough to catch her near whisper. "Is that it?" And then she erupted. Up she soared, leaping after the rogue dragons, challenging their supremacy of the sky. Even so, they held back, always just out of Akuha's reach.

Lanfen and the others had resumed firing, though their attacks seemed too ineffectual to draw any of the dragons' attention. _But at least they're doing something, _Tsukune thought ruefully. All he could do, his feet blocks of lead, was stand behind Akuha, eyes at her back, envious of her fearlessness and dominance. When it came to real matters of life and death, with these creatures threatening to send them raining down to their doom, would he end up a mere observer to her warrior? The thought of drawing upon his Shinso blood, in light of what he had been suffering this past month, was too daunting, and hamstringed him of a serious potential weapon.

Still, for all of that, the vampire still seethed with mounting frustration, swearing as she missed her evasive targets again and again. "I think you showed your hand too quickly, Miss Akuha," Hayate called over the deafening clamor. "They won't be coming within spitting distance of you, not if they can help it!"

To which she sneered over her shoulder: "Well, perhaps someone could do something about that?"

Hayate smiled and nodded. "Of course, I thought you would never ask."

Tsukune, meanwhile, had heard none of this exchange; all he saw, a moment later, was the tongue burst from Hayate's mouth, and then, to his alarm, extend far beyond the normal range of what anybody's tongue should be capable of. One meter. Two. Three. A dozen. It sped through the air like a flying snake, and before the nearest dragon even noticed, had wrapped itself several times around the scaly neck. Then, gripping the base of his own tongue, Hayate yanked. The beast did not come instantly crashing down upon the ship, but Hayate's strength was apparently enough to draw it within striking distance for Akuha. For strike she did, and the neck was severed from the body, bouncing almost comically off the ship's hull, leaving Hayate's tongue loose and whipping wildly in the wind; he retracted it in the blink of an eye.

And then it was out again, this time catching around another dragon's leg. As he began to reel in his catch, though, one of the others, wise to the trick, swooped down, streaking like a missile just above the ship towards the exposed appendage, opening its mouth to snap it at the center—and right into Akuha's path. Ignoring the dragon Hayate had trapped, she plowed through the interloper, bursting out the other side with not a mark on her. Hayate, meantime, was not about to let his catch go to waste: the tongue extended a bit further, and, the tip forming a sharp point, suddenly plunged into the dragon's breast, eliciting an agonizing death cry that almost made Tsukune feel sorry for the beast, as he fought through a brief bout of nausea. A moment later, and the dragon was released. Another corpse for the earth.

A third time, too, Hayate ensnared one of the winged serpents, making ready to pierce it again. And another dragon dove in from behind to stop him, this time however aiming straight at the man himself. Tsukune watched the scene as if in slow motion. His heart froze as he noticed that Akuha was still going after another target, and was too far to get back in time; Hayate didn't even seem to notice the imminent danger. Tsukune called out his name, but the din was too terrible for anyone to hear. It would be too late for Akuha or any of the others to act!

Whether or not that realization was the trigger, all Tsukune knew was that a moment later his legs had sprung like a trap, and he was bolting towards the kind hearted retainer, his speed still near supernatural levels thanks to his previous training.

He tackled Hayate, hard, with a grunt, and sent both of them slamming and skidding along the ground: Tsukune felt a sharp pain on his right shoulder as they tumbled.

"That was close, huh?" Hayate wheezed under him, seeing what had happened as he caught his breath. "Thanks for that. I should pay more attention to my back."

They quickly untangled and got back to their feet. "I'm just glad I could help," Tsukune admitted. "That's, err, some…tongue you got there."

Hayate cocked his head, then gave a short bark of amusement. "That's right, you've never seen me in action before. Well, it's like I told you—Oh, you're bleeding!"

Tsukune glanced down, and sure enough, one of the beast's claws had brushed ever so lightly—but still deep enough to cut—against his shoulder, and through the torn fabric of his shirt he could see the dark blood seeping out. "No big deal," he said firmly, "it's shallow enough, all things considered."

Hayate wasn't convinced, and was about to say more when Akuha finally came dropping down next to them. Her eyes flared with that same intensity as before; he did not often see it from her, even in battle.

"What happened?" she demanded urgently.

"Oh, you know, got careless," Hayate replied casually. Then, soberly: "Tsukune saved me in the nick of time, but he's wounded. The claws got him. We need to end this fast, so he can get medical attention."

"Really," the boy insisted, "it's not that—"

"I see," Akuha interrupted. "Are you alright?"

For a minute, then, there was silence—As much as roaring gales, the groaning of the ship, the booming blasts of fire and the shrieks of dragons could be called silence. Hayate, strangely, did not reply, but merely turned to Tsukune. Impatient, Akuha said "Well?" at which Tsukune looked and saw she was staring expectantly, not at Hayate, but at himself. "Me? O-oh, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just…well, I'm glad I was able to do something."

"What are you talking about? I thought you said you could fight. Weren't you training with Moka for a while?" He didn't have an answer for that. "Well, no matter," she went on, waving a dismissive hand. "We can handle this on our own." Then, stepping forward, she caught Tsukune off guard when she placed a hand under his chin, and, with an examining gaze, turned his head this way and that. Seemingly satisfied, her eyes moved to his shoulder, and, far more gently than he would have expected, her thin fingers brushed over the shredded fabric, pressing against the wound. Tsukune grimaced at the touch, and she quickly withdrew, her tongue flickering delicately over her lips. "Good, I'm glad," she muttered. "And good job, watching my servant's back." His cheeks flushing, Tsukune turned aside, only to notice Lanfen, still providing her own cover fire from her position, throwing quick, nervous glances in their direction.

Before he could even take another breath, however, their foes, not ones to hold back while a conversation was carried on, let the flames crackle around their tongues, and unleashed hellfire once more, hoping to catch the trio off guard. This time, Tsukune suddenly found himself the one roughly removed from the blast, with Hayate yanking him back by the collar. Akuha again stood at ground zero, and again when the flames were swept away, she emerged uncharred, masked with a cold glare.

So they whittled away at the dragons' numbers; whatever the cause behind their violent revolt, Tsukune half wished there was a way to subdue the animals without killing them; but that seemed impossible, given their strength and ferocity, and all that was left to Akuha was to dispose of her vicious retinue. He wondered, briefly, as another flew a bit too close to her swiping hands, if it pained her at all to do so. The thought was quickly shattered as a dragon came snapping angrily straight for him; with no time to wait for any aid, he jumped, on instinct, to the side, and, recollection of his training with Moka flashing through his mind, swung his leg out. His foot cracked against the beast's skull, though, as he had not drawn upon much of his ghoulish power, it was only enough to divert its path to the side, trailed a moment later by Hayate's flashing tongue, which promptly coiled around and plunged into its throat. As for Tsukune, he had felt an immediate stabbing pain in his leg upon impact, and, landing, it seemed to fold beneath him like paper, and he sank to one knee, wincing.

Akuha noticed, and found herself keeping one eye on his position as she continued her battle. Fortunately, there were only a couple of dragons left now, the last of which was dispatched by Lanfen, proving the troop was not completely useless, catching it in the eye with a few rounds. The monster shrieked in agony, landed, opened its mouth to incinerate anything it could, and swallowed gunfire from the rest, collapsing in a heap aboard the now blackened, but still intact, envelope of the ship.

At last, everyone could take a breath of relief; the soldiers lowered their weapons, Akuha's small form relaxed, Hayate licked his lips to savor the morsels he had extracted from the beasts, and Tsukune tenderly experimented putting some weight on his left leg, though it still wobbled delicately beneath him. He cursed. Dragons they might have been, but, even after all his training, all it took was one hit to render his entire leg near crippled.

A sudden feral roar shocked them, and a shout of "There's one more!" rang out. Indeed, one final straggler, hiding and lying in wait below the ship, out of sight while the battle raged, now ranged above them, furious and bellowing and frothing flames at the mouth.

It all happened too fast. Suddenly the fireball's blast exploded nearby with a resounding crack, and Tsukune felt his body lifted and violently thrown aside like a broken doll. For a brief instant, he distantly heard a voice like Hayate's give a wild shout of "Lanfen!" and saw the girl flying over the other side of ship, before his senses were completely overwhelmed by a stifling roar.

If asked, he would have claimed it felt like an eternity before he was jolted back to himself. In reality, it was but a few seconds. His spinning stupor was rudely broken at another sudden rip of pain, this time in his left arm. The haze cleared just enough from his eyes for him to watch as he slid roughly down the reinforced film of the ship's side, the skin of his fingers being scoured away as he regained enough presence of mind to desperately grasp for a stop to his fall. His heart raced dangerously as just the opposite happened, and he was suddenly snatching at air, but then, before he could even call out, the wind was brutally hammered out of him by a heavy blow to the gut. Opening his eyes, his vision swam; he could taste a rich copper on his tongue; and though, for the moment, he was no longer falling, already he was beginning to slip from whatever perch had ended his plunge. Fighting with sweat soaked hands to gain a temporary hold, he craned his aching neck and blinked several times until he could see.

Above him, the gentle curve of the hull arched, heaped in shadows from the sun, clouds tinged with saffron and soot black drifting by as the airship hummed along. The vision might have been beautiful if he wasn't fighting the urge to vomit. The piercing light in his peripheral wasn't helping. Looking down, he realized it was one of the ship's lighting rods that had broken his fall, and to which he now precariously clung. His legs dangled helplessly, and his arm hurt too much to help him pull them up and mount the rod.

"Don't look down," he told himself, "don't look down. No good will come from looking down." But it was unavoidable. His eyes had already drifted over the edge of the rod, taking in the sweeping view of earth thousands of feet below. It seemed to grow closer as he stared, and his stomach lurched again. He could barely catch his breath: the fierce winds filled his lungs each time he opened his mouth, their harsh roar assaulted his ears like beats of a drum. He tore his eyes away from the ground, casting about wildly for any way to clamber back up the ship to a safe position, before his ever slackening grip made that concern irrelevant. But the search was fruitless; the hull loomed smooth and ominous before his eyes, with no ledges or platforms for him to scramble up along the way.

Again he cursed, a wheezing sound from his lips. "No use…Damn, I—I can't get back. A-Akuha!" he tried to shout, though there was no way anyone atop the ship would hear the pitiful sound. "I'm gonna die," he faltered out after a moment, being suckered into another peek at the vast ground. "Damn it! How pathetic. After everything we went through, was I really unable to do anything in the end? I couldn't save Moka, couldn't stop Fairy Tale, couldn't make our dream come true. I couldn't even make it through this fight without breaking an arm and a leg," he chuckled morbidly, for he was quite sure they were, or, at the very least, injured. Said arm was weakening more by the second, each successive throb like a hammer-stroke to the bone. He was slipping, inch by inch, from the rod, kicking and flailing his good leg desperately to gain some kind of footing. Then the ship drifted sharply to the left, and his grip was broken, and down he plunged.

"Tsukune!"

As the sky above zoomed away, he distantly heard, through the ringing of his ears, the mighty gales, and his banging heart, the voice calling his name. A man's voice, it sounded like; turning his gaze down across his body, he saw an odd shape whisking through the air along the ship's flank. The image quickly cleared as it drew near.

It was Hayate, wings outstretched ("Wings? When did he get wings?" Tsukune thought absently), a look of unshaken determination etched across his features, which, in that moment, suddenly did not look so youthful. Also suddenly clear were the odd shapes both above and below Hayate: perched steadily with her knees against his back was Akuha, clinging to her servant's shoulders and riding him like some kind of giant bat; below, Lanfen, gripped tightly within his arms. Her eyes were shut, her hair fluttering chaotically under the force of the wind.

"So he caught her after all," Tsukune mused through his panic. "Hayate must be awfully strong to fly so easy shouldering two people, and now he's—wait, how is he planning to carry—Oh, OH, there it is!" His question was answered as Hayate's tongue wrapped round him and squeezed tightly, pinning his arms to his side, eliciting a wince. With a few flaps of the thin, leathery wings, Hayate ascended with his cargo, Tsukune dangling below as if suspended from a helicopter rope. He might have found it comical, if the situation was less grave, and he didn't still hover dangerously between life and death, his body feeling like it was being punched again and again. He ventured a glance up at his rescuer; his eyes were still somewhat foggy, that he knew, but that didn't explain this new puzzling sight. "Where are his legs?" he wondered, for all he could see was the man's torso soaring through the air, cut off at the waist, from which protruded like a wagging digit—"Oh, god, is that his spine!?"

Suddenly very sick, Tsukune fought to stay conscious, shutting his eyes tight and gulping deep breaths, until after what felt like far too long he was unraveled gently back on the ship's hull. And then he passed out.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x -x-x-x-

He woke sometime later to the smell of disinfectant and a revived, but thankfully dulled, ache at multiple points on his body. His left leg was shut tight in a cast, his arm on the same side bandaged; his opposite shoulder—he peeked under the collar of the gown he seemed to have been given—was wrapped up as well. A light rustle drew his gaze to the side, where he saw someone in a bed just like his. It looked for all the world like a hospital bed, and as the occupant shifted he saw it was Lanfen, restlessly fidgeting, but not nearly as mummified as he felt. The side of her tensed face did, however, sport some large white coverings of its own, under which Tsukune could just make out some fairly nasty burn scars: the memories were quickly returning to him, and she had been closer to the blast that had thrown both of them overboard.

"H-hey," he croaked out, and wetted his throat before trying again. "Hey. Lanfen, isn't it? Are you alright? Where are we?"

But she was asleep, after all, so he did not call her again.

"She'll be fine, it's not critical," a voice said from the other side of his bed, and Tsukune jerked his head—a bit too sharply, and he cringed—to see Akuha sitting stilly atop a stool, knee hiked up, resting her chin on it. Her expression was unreadable, and when he looked at her she went on: "She got pretty badly scorched though, along her cheek and a good part of her back. But nothing threatening. I know Hayate will be pleased about that."

Tsukune glanced at the resting girl again. "Hayate…He dove right after her, didn't he? They must be very close."

Akuha merely cocked her head. "I don't exactly concern myself with such things. He speaks of her as a close friend and colleague, and that's all I know. But, he can do as he pleases…as long as it doesn't interfere with our work."

"Oh. So, where am I?"

"Medical bay, of course. We don't have private rooms here, so we had to pair the three of you up." She gestured behind her, and Tsukune saw that there was another Fairy Taler out cold on another bed beside him.

"Feels like my body was in a trainwreck," he groaned. "I must look terrible."

"No more than usual."

The boy rolled his eyes. He remained quite still, hoping to ease the throbbing, though he allowed his good hand to move to rub his temple. "Seriously. That was…that was unexpected. What a day. One minute we're leaving my house, the next I'm hanging by my fingertips outside an airship and falling out of the sky."

"Yes, and I still don't know what happened," Akuha said darkly.

"You mean, why your dragons suddenly turned on us?"

"Yeah…I sent a cleanup crew down to the places on the surface where they fell, to retrieve the remains. If we examine them later, maybe that can give us some kind of clue."

"You don't even have the slightest idea?"

"I told you I don't. There was no sign. Every division with an airship has a flock of dragons, or at least some type of winged monster, patrolling the ship, for those targets that are too small for our missiles to hit. Always have. There has never been an instance of the things going rogue that I can recall. It will probably take a full investigation to figure it out. But in the end, that doesn't matter as much. What's important is that they were a threat, and they were exterminated. That's all I'm interested in right now."

"I suppose you have a point." He glanced around, noticing they were the only two conscious people in the room. "Where is Hayate, by the way? I wanted to thank him."

"He was here with her before," Akuha said, gesturing at Lanfen. "He'll probably be back before long. You're fortunate he was there. As good as I am, even I couldn't have caught you like that."

"You're saying you would've wanted to?" Tsukune retorted. It was meant as a payback tease for the jab she had taken, but the vampire was not amused. "I suppose," she said gruffly. "It would've been annoying to add yet another body to the recon team's list."

Tsukune said nothing, but leaned back again on his pillow. Very comfortable, he thought, considering that Fairy Tale was essentially a military organization not known for coddling. "I am glad he was there, though, honestly," he said after a minute. "Except…" He paused, this memory, too, coming back to him; of watching Hayate take down several of the winged demons, of swinging helplessly through the air below him. "Well, what _is _he? That tongue, and…ugh, that was his spine, wasn't it."

"You've probably never heard of them before," she said plainly. "He is a manananggal."

Tsukune blinked, and tried to form the word with his mouth. "Mana…manana…manga…I'm sorry, I have no idea what that is."

"Told you."

"What is a…you know, that?"

"What do you need to know besides that it's just another ayashi?" she replied. "A sort of vampire—though not quite like us," she was quick to add, with not a little bit of pride. "Like cousins, you could say. Distant from the main line."

"Main line? Just how many types of you guys are there, anyway?"

"I just told you we're not the same," she grunted. "They're more like…lesser vampires. Like others, not descended from Alucard. Weaker, not fit to be called true vampires. As you saw, they can fly, though they have to separate their torso from their body to do so, which leaves them vulnerable, and they can extend their tongues to great lengths to use as a weapon—although, usually, this is to suck the hearts of fetuses out of pregnant women."

At that Tsukune felt a revived rush of sick bile welling up in his throat. "That's terrible! Are you—are you telling me that Hayate….?"

"Hm? Oh, no, not him. Not that I'd mind, but he swears up and down he has no interest in feeding that way, never has. He's actually a bit of an outlier among his kind. That's probably why there's no love lost between them."

Tsukune tried to imagine for a moment the perpetually smiling, tranquil Hayate, seemingly always at ease with the whole world, having bad blood with anyone. Not that he suspected Akuha was lying, but still, it was difficult. Then again, he admitted, I don't exactly know him very well. All he said, however, was: "What do you mean?"

"His home was on a small island in the Philippines—that's their native region—with his clan. But, for whatever reason, he wasn't like the rest of them. And not only in his habits. His kind are usually hermaphrodites, you see."

"And he's not?"

"Have you ever seen him as a woman? No. Nobody knows why he turned out like he did, not him, not the clan he was born to. But, you can probably understand that they were disgusted by him, and saw him as an abomination. That's why they sold him when he was a child to the Miao family, who took him in as a servant."

"So that's how he got there," Tsukune muttered. "How horrible, to be turned into an outcast like that, thrown aside by your own family."

So lost in thought did he become, dwelling on this, that it took him a minute to realize Akuha wasn't saying anything. When he looked back up, she, too, had a distant expression on her pale features, the brow above the deep red eyes drawn with faint lines. And it struck him what he had said. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean…I forgot that—"

"Think nothing of it. It's in the past. My father had his reasons, and what's done is done." _Yes, _a little voice whispered to her, _but if not for that, then you wouldn't—_she crushed the thought violently into nothingness. "Forget it."

"Alright. Yeah, I can't say I'm anxious to meet those people. If they did that to one of their own, I can only imagine how they feel about humans." He glanced at her. "Then again…." Before she could respond, he felt his throat catch, and he coughed hard a few times. "Drink," he growled out afterwards, "please, need water."

A minute later and Akuha had filled a cup from the sink and brought it to him. It rushed past his lips, cool and refreshing, and as always with that minty tang of the herbs that he had grown somewhat used to before spending a month back in the human world. Now, it tasted as foreign to him as it had his first day aboard the ship.

"Thanks," he said when he was done, and placed it aside. A light moan from his sleeping roommate drew his concern. "You sure she's going to be alright?" he asked. Akuha nodded. "Really," he went on, "I'm glad it turned out that Hayate can fly. And that he could carry us even as, well, I guess you could say half a man. Actually"—here he paused, another image returning, and his curiosity gnashing teeth at another matter—"What were you doing there, on his back?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I saw you, riding on top of him like he was some aerial mount. I'm sure I did."

"What of it?" she retorted, sidling absently away from him, down to the foot of the bed.

"I mean, you didn't need to be there," he said sheepishly, not wanting to sound ungrateful. "Hayate could have found me on his own. In fact, you being there just gave him extra weight to carry—not that you're heavy!"

At this, Akuha seemed slightly rattled. "What does it matter?" she started, gesturing insistently. "I just wanted to make sure—Besides, Moka would have been upset if—Gah! Why do you have to make a huge case out of it?"

"I'm not," he replied gently. "It's just a question. But I'm sorry if I upset you."

She was silent for a moment, scowling with bright indignation and tapping the foot of the bed, then she quickly spun around and made for the door. She paused there, and he noticed her shoulders visibly tense, then droop as she exhaled, gathering herself. When she spoke again, her tone was subdued. "We'll be arriving at the Gardens very shortly. Obviously you will remain here; I can handle delivering a package and bringing Moka back myself."

"Whoa, hang on. Like hell I'm staying here," Tsukune shot back, surprised at his sudden vehemence, as was Akuha, visibly bewildered. "Sorry," he laughed nervously. "Just the thought of staying here doing nothing while you see this to the end isn't something I'm ok with. I'm coming with you."

"You have a fractured tibia and a strained forearm. Like hell you are," she echoed curtly.

"Get me crutches, then. I'll even take a wheelchair, if I have to. I'm going."

"Idiot," she sighed. "You're just going to make your injuries worse. And for what? You can't still possibly doubt me when it comes to Moka's safety. Haven't we been through this?"

"That's not it at all," he protested. "It's just…I want to be there when she comes back. We've been apart long enough, any longer than necessary is unacceptable."

Akuha scowled, but saw something in the boy's eyes that told her she would be unable to persuade him otherwise, short of actually chaining him down. And even that might not do the trick. "Suit yourself," she relented with a huff. "I'll bring you something in a few. For now, get what little rest you can. I'll be back."

She went for the door again. Before she reached it, Tsukune called out again, this time smiling: "Hey, Akuha. Thanks. For caring, I mean."

How long ago it now seemed, she wondered with some unease, where she would have thought nothing of slicing him in two for the mere suggestion of inserting himself amid a reunion between herself and Moka? Now, forget allowing it to happen, she wasn't even bothered by it—indeed, was willingly participating! And as she left the room, she tried to suppress the disturbing implications of this. After all, she told herself, she had accompanied Hayate when her presence served no purpose in rescuing Tsukune. Then again, as long as he was aboard this ship and was her hostage (_hostage? _she thought. Why was he even her hostage again? Oh, right, to leverage Moka's cooperation. That hadn't gone exactly as planned), it would be bad form to let any harm come to him. Right? Her breast an uncommonly violent tempest, she gave herself a couple of light slaps on the cheeks and put it out of her mind. They had work to do.

Back in the room, meanwhile, Tsukune was already getting prepared for the departure as best he could: in this case, merely rising on his bed, propping himself on his good arm ("good" being relative, as the unencased limb had still suffered a nasty dragon scratch at the shoulder), and gingerly sliding his legs over the side.

The silence was still thick in Akuha's wake. Even with the girl gone, Tsukune was half trying to make sense of her. She hadn't exactly answered his question, and it didn't help that it made his own heart thump a bit stronger than he was comfortable with.

"Wow," a light voice came suddenly from his side. It seemed Lanfen had in fact been awake, and now was peering at her neighbour with her uncovered eye as she lay on her side, hair splayed across the pillow. "I don't think I've ever seen the captain get flustered like that."

"Y-you were up," Tsukune stammered simply, twisting his body round.

"Just for a minute," she hummed, and smiled. Tsukune had only seen her briefly before, but now, getting a good look at her, she was actually kind of cute; her harsh injuries did little to diminish that. She had a small, oval face, with fresh skin and a pensive mouth; her nose was slightly upturned, and her lashes were as dark as the rest of her mussed hair. The one eye visible to him had a glow of curiosity within.

"I don't think we've really been introduced before. I'm Tsukune."

"I know," she nodded. "You've been here long enough that I should at least know your name." She laughed, and it quickly morphed into a cough.

"Oh, sorry! You don't have to force yourself to talk. You should be resting. You got hurt pretty bad back there."

"I'll be alright," she assured him. "I'm Lanfen."

"Nice to meet you, Lanfen—officially, that is," he said.

"Likewise." With a groan, the young woman rolled onto her back, and scooted up so she was sitting opposite Tsukune, letting her bed cover rest at her feet. From this position he saw that her face wasn't all that had been charred. The whole right side of her body, practically—the bandages went down her smooth neck, vanishing beneath the collar of her gown, then snaking out from under her sleeve to cover her arm. Even her leg. She winced as she shifted, but made no complaint. "So," she began, looking him over, "looks like you didn't come out of that battle too well yourself."

"I guess not," he chuckled, trying to bend his arm. "Akuha told me there's a fracture in my leg. I suppose I'll feel it in a few minutes."

"You got knocked off the ship by the same blast as me," she said quietly. "I'll be honest, I thought I was a goner."

"Thank God Hayate can fly, huh?" he replied. At this, the eye was cast downward, and she looked despondent. "Hey, what's the matter?"

She sighed heavily. "Oh, nothing. In the end, I was completely useless back there."

Tsukune frowned, disagreeing. "That's not true! You were the only one of your squad that caught that dragon in the eye, weren't you?"

"Some achievement," she replied with a shake of her head; even that motion made her wince sharply and bring up her good hand to her neck. "Besides, I just got blown away, and Hayate had to save me, again."

"Again? Has this happened before?"

"Well, I meant "saved" more in a general sense," she said shyly. "With work especially. See, I'm…a bit of a screw up, honestly, and he's covered for me a bunch of times in the past." At that she went a bit pale with fright and gestured at him: "Oh, but please don't tell Captain Akuha I said that! At best I'd be dishonorably discharged, at worst…."

"I won't," he promised. "But, if you were so concerned about it, why did you guys stick to using guns? Maybe your ayashi powers could have been more effective against…." He trailed off as he noticed her give a light shake of her head. "Only division leaders and the second-in-commands are allowed to transform at will out of their human forms in any capacity," she said, as if reciting official policy. "The rest of us are forbidden from doing so unless ordered to by our captains."

"What? That sounds dumb. Why not?"

She shrugged. "I couldn't say. I just know that it's the protocol throughout the organization."

"I thought Fairy Tale was pretty loosely knit group."

"For the most part, but there are a few regulations that are passed down from the top that apply to all squads."

"Then, this rule is Gyokuro's doing, not Akuha's?"

"That's right. So unless the captain feels it's absolutely necessary, we're not to change. And, as you saw, it was clearly unnecessary." This, with a touch of amusement.

"I don't really understand it," he said, his brow furrowed. Nevertheless, he didn't pursue the matter. It wasn't like Lanfen could tell him anything more. He made a mental note to ask Gyokuro herself, if he remembered. The two didn't speak for another minute, but at last he blurted out: "Why do you say you're a screw up?"

She didn't answer right away, instead looking her burned arm and leg over. Tsukune could sense the sorrow in her expression as the disfiguration, no matter what she might say. "I'm what you might call—well, you could think of me as a 'second mate'," she informed him. "I work under Hayate, and he delegates certain responsibilities to me regarding the ship's care and upkeep. But I'm just so disorganized, and a bit of a scatterbrain," she said with a self-deprecating grin. "He ends up covering my ass on each one of my fumbles, when the last thing I want is to be a burden to him."

Tsukune nodded compassionately as he listened. When she trailed off, he paused for a moment, deep in consideration, remembering everything that had transpired that day. "I don't mean to pry," he said at last, "but—I can't help but wonder, I mean—are the two of you, like, together?"

The pretty eye went wide, and her ear was tipped with pink. "T-together!? You mean—no, but—well, it's—you see, it's not—f-fraternization wouldn't be—I work for him!"

"Sorry, sorry!" he cut her off, unable to suppress a laugh. "You don't have to explain. But I'm starting to see that you guys obviously mean something to each other. The last thing I heard before I took my fall was him screaming your name, and then he even made sure to catch you first—not that I mind!" he added, thinking of his own battle, almost at its end, to retrieve Moka from whatever unknown fate had ensnared her.

"Yeah, I heard him, too." She paused, glancing at Tsukune then averting her gaze at his earnest expression. "It's complicated," she said after a moment.

"Oh, do I understand complicated," he replied lightly. "This whole past two months or so of my life have been weirder than anything I imagined—even at Youkai Academy!"

"That makes sense, since you are a human." Of course she knew, Tsukune realized. Everyone on the ship did. Still, at least he detected no spite or malice in her voice or countenance when she said that, though a touch of closely kept fear was noticeable. "But, I'd say you've done pretty well with it so far, wouldn't you?"

He frowned, and looked up at the speckled ceiling, saying, after a pause: "I suppose, given the circumstances."

He could feel her stare on his face, as if she were examining him. Soon she said, matter-of-factly: "You know, I was wrong before, what I said. I have seen the captain behave that way before, when it comes to her sister, Lady Moka. She's extremely…high-strung on that subject, as I'm sure you know. Possessive, you might say. Gets flustered or pouty when people talk about her. It reminded me of that, just now, when she was here."

"W-what?" Tsukune asked, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking.

Lanfen seemed to sense this, for she rolled her eye and ran a hand through her hair casually. "Nothing," she chuckled. "Say, speaking of romance, you and Lady Moka are an item, aren't you?"

This was a much easier topic for the boy. "Y-yeah," he babbled. "Although, that's kind of complicated in its own way. Still, she's probably what's helped keep me going, considering what's happened. I fight for her; everything I've been doing has been to return to her, really, and then make our dream come true. For ourselves, our friends, hopefully the world."

"Dream?" Lanfen sounded genuinely intrigued at the mention. "Would you tell me about it?"

"Simple. Nothing more than a world where humans and ayashi can live together in peace, without perpetual persecution, bloodshed and war."

"Oh," was all she replied, and again, Tsukune thought he detected that trace of nervousness. Both times, when the discussion had turned to humans. Was she afraid of them? He supposed it was possible; as his kind was afraid of monsters, so some of them might return the sentiment. Should he even ask? "You'll see, one day," he insisted, trying to sound comforting, then, when she said nothing, he thought it best to change the subject. "You know, I don't think you're a screw up at all."

She gave a light laugh and thanked him. "That's nice of you to say, but I can't agree."

"Why not?" he asked, somewhat forcefully. The wounds this brave soldier had suffered in a violent battle stared him bluntly in the face, and the fact that she was so down on herself ruffled him. "You're an officer, you said? I doubt they just hand out those jobs, which means you can't be as bad as you say. Obviously, they thought you were qualified for the position. You should have some faith in yourself."

Another bright smile met him, though she winced again from her facial burns. "You're very sweet. And different from what I expected of a human. I'm sure Lady Moka is a very lucky girl."

"I'm the lucky one," he said, laughing. "Besides, I meant what I said—you were actually able to wound one of those things. I don't think I hurt a single one of them, and this is what I get for my efforts." He held up his entombed arm with a wry smile playing at his mouth.

"Oh, now don't you start," she chided. At his perplexed look, she explained: "If not for you, Hayate would have been killed, probably eaten alive. You saved him—that's how your shoulder got hurt, isn't it?"

"Oh, right, I'd almost forgotten about that," he replied, slightly embarrassed. "Honestly, it happened so fast, I wasn't even thinking. All I saw was that monster flying straight at him, and I wasn't going to stand by and do nothing."

"Well, it was very heroic," she said, leaning towards him. "Don't think we didn't notice it. My comrades are no doubt grateful for what you did. I'm…very grateful." This last part, with a slight hitch in the throat.

A minute later and Akuha returned with a crutch for his leg—a busted up old thing that looked like it might tumble to pieces under Tsukune's weight. Nevertheless, he slid it under his arm and hobbled up. "You sure about this?" she said. "We're docking now, so this is your last chance to opt out."

That, however, was not in the cards, and he told her as much. So, with a word of farewell and well-wishes to Lanfen, who returned it with a tense-shouldered salute in her superior's presence, they were off. As they made for the door, Hayate finally returned, sweeping in and greeting them with a quick nod and pat on Tsukune's shoulder, and pacing over to Lanfen's bed. Neither spoke at first, and as Tsukune limped out of the room, the last thing he saw was Hayate reaching down and clutching her hand. Their faces were hidden from him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x -x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

On the surface, much about the Gardens looked the same to Tsukune as during his first visit. The landing pads, the winding path, vanishing behind copses of trees, peeking out again some long ways ahead as it flowed into the distant, tiny courtyard; the compacted huddle of numerous slate-roofed buildings that gave the place the appearance of a city; the great steps that rose toward the heavens, up towards the stark, ominous mountains that seemed to both buffer and embrace the pallid central fortress, whose spire thrust up like a sword held in victory. Girdling the horizon, a belt of deep saffron and lilac provided a dim glow in the growing dark, as lights in the little city also began to twinkle through the windows.

There was also little change in the Fairy Talers going about their business, paying scant attention to the new arrivals as they descended from pad and docking bay, only some mindful enough to recognize Akuha and give her the proper greeting. They reserved curious askant stares for the wounded boy trailing the Shuzen assassin, forcing her to slow her usual brisk step. No outward change, anyway, but there was something off about the scene before them. It was faint, but he could sense it: the distant, echoing whisper of power, simmering in the air around them, choking it…A dark pulse, with cold shadow pumping through the roads running beneath their feet like blood through veins. Now that he looked closely, in fact, it was evident that the people around him felt something, too. Their movements showed sharp and tense, their eyes anxious; yet nobody acted significantly out of the ordinary; he wondered if they were even conscious of it. He, at least, was making a focused effort to beat back the nasty dregs of memory, swarming in his mind like rabid, furious bats, eager to remind him of the sudden thirst for blood and destruction being here last time had awoken in him. That was the last thing he needed, especially with another Shinso-sparked seizure lurking, hidden, at some point in the future.

Meantime, his eyes fell on the silver-colored case Akuha had carried from the ship, wherein was stored the capsule they had waited a whole month to deliver to Gyokuro. Tsukune's fears hadn't abated, and it certainly looked like it could be a weapon. It was nothing he hadn't suspected all along, even while going along with it, but now, on the very cusp…His mind swirled with possibilities. Moka's retrieval was top priority, but then…could he manage some way to steal back the package once she was secured on board? There was little chance it would be easy. And what about Akuha? She would surely try to stop him, maybe even turn him over to Gyokuro…or would she? And even if he could take Moka and flee with the potential weapon, what would they do with it? The case was sealed by a ten digit code, it appeared, one that Akuha or Gyokuro had chosen. Cracking it might be impossible. Perhaps leave it with Touhou Fuhai…the Headmaster….?

_Don't lose focus! _he scolded himself. _First step, Moka. Everything else will come after that. It's no use worrying. You're not some genius who can come up with a crafty plan on the spot._

He took a deep breath as they arrived in the courtyard, still trying to adjust to his crutch. Ahead the steps loomed, the darkness more palpable here, and as he mounted the first one he felt his heart sink at the prospect of climbing the whole flight in his condition. It had been challenging enough while healthy! Already his arm was beginning to ache, not used to holding the crutch.

Akuha had noticed. "Told you it wouldn't be easy."

"Shut up, I'll manage," he growled, cursing and shouting at himself internally to pool all his strength and move forward, one leg in front of the other.

"Don't make me laugh. Look at you! You're like Frankenstein on that thing."

"You mean the monster?"

Then she, primly: "Around here, that's what we call his creator. But that's not my point. You're not going to make it up there." Her eyes narrowed, assessing the situation, flitting between the wounded boy and the fortress overhead. Her decision was reached quickly, and, shuffling back down towards his level, she turned away and squatted before him, placing the package on the ground, gesturing with her hands held out behind her. "Alright, hop on."

Tsukune wasn't quite sure what to make of this. "Err, you can't be serious. I practically have a foot on you, Akuha, and I'm guessing a good number of pounds."

"I may not be Kahlua," she scoffed, "but I can carry one measly human, at least. Come on. Remember, I lifted much heavier things when I was younger than this. Oh, but you'll have to carry that, ok?"

Ordinarily, Tsukune might have objected more, but now, so close as they were, every second they were out here left him with a sickness in his throat. And Akuha seemed resolute…So, laying his crutch flat along her palms, he stepped between her arms, picked up the case at her side with one hand, grabbed onto a narrow shoulder with the other, and met her grunt with his own as she stood, slightly hunched but hoisting him as easily as a vampire babe, and pulling the crutch flush against his behind. His chin hovered above her head, and the scent of her hair played at his nose. His weight did little to check her speed, and up they went, keeping in view the fortress, rising cold and smooth, its towers and spires crowned by the vast, ever gathering dark.

_To be continued…_


	17. For Want of Sanity, Pt 2

**For Want of Sanity, Pt. 2**

If Tsukune had been apprehensive about returning to the cold, blue-lit stone cell that Gyokuro called an office, he was soon granted a temporary reprieve. The gates had been thrown open upon their arrival, great things of gilded iron; patchy in places, and exposing some bits of rusted metal beneath, but still catching and throwing some last, faint specks from the sinking sun. Past these Akuha strode, her wary-eyed, weary-limbed cargo clinging to her back, once again the focal point of numerous bemused stares and quick glances from guards at their stations. Before long, he insisted that he could walk, at least until they encountered any more stairs. He took his crutch back from her and returned the package. Soon, they had once again reached the open garden near the center of the complex, trees imported from myriad parts decorating the scene, puffs of white-flowered myrtles, dogwoods laden with new red fruit, sweeping fern leaves bowing in the fading light. Tranquil and inviting, it soothed Tsukune's troubled nerves, and he realized he would be quite content if their meeting with Gyokuro were to remain outside in this spot. It was here, beside the marble columns lining the portico that enclosed the fragrant green, that Akuha stopped abruptly. Over her shoulder Tsukune saw Gyokuro herself coming forth from the door at the opposite end of the colonnade.

To his surprise, she was unescorted; he had half expected that someone with her importance within the ayashi world and this organization would not walk alone and exposed. He quickly retracted the idea, reminding himself of the power she must possess. Surely, her solitude was a potent sign of how little she feared any attempt on her life.

_And we'll have to fight this person someday, most likely_, he rued silently. His knuckles were white on the crutch.

Her eyes fell on them, and the pretty smile dimpling her mouth gave way to a look of furrowed worry. She called out to them, stepping forward where the sun's ebbing light broke through the columns. Her every step was graceful, to Tsukune's eyes. Pure, swanlike elegance. A cream-colored dress hugged her lithe form, matched by the silken sleeves she seemed so fond of which ran up to her elbows; her collar sparkled with a necklace of yellow and brown diamonds, set in a web of glimmering gold and framed by a single row of radiant white stones. She was beautiful, he would give her that; easy to see where Kahlua and Kokoa got their good looks from. A sudden gust spiraled through the garden, whistling in harmony with the bristling chatter of the thrushes, the low, gentle murmur of a lone mourning dove; the woman's heeled footsteps tapped along through the music, then stopped as she bent down and embraced her step-daughter in a light hug.

"My men on the docks told me what happened," she exhaled, pulling away from a very stiff-looking Akuha. Smooth as she was, her features were drawn and tense. "Are you alright, dear?"

"We're fine. It was nothing I couldn't handle."

"I'm relieved. What a blessing we built our vessels so sturdy! I would have assumed the worst, but…Well, what matters now is that you're safe. Still, to imagine your dragons would go off like that. It is a cause for high concern. What could have possibly possessed them?"

"Not sure yet. Needless to say, I'll be foregoing a replacement, if you don't mind."

Gyokuro pursed her lips for a moment, but then nodded. She just then seemed to notice Tsukune standing behind Akuha, propped up on his crutch, and spared him a glance. "And I see you got the worst of it, poor thing." She tisked ruefully. "Humans really are such fragile, tender creatures."

Tsukune said nothing, but glowered at the indignity. Before he could say anything, however, Akuha spoke up. "True. But he did manage to save my servant's life. I'm grateful he was there."

This time, he really had no response. He felt his face go hot, and subtly tried to play it off with a cough.

Gyokuro merely spread her pale lips in a smile, and fiddled with the silver rosary that adorned her hair. "Oh? Perhaps it is fortunate you kept him, then. I thought it a questionable decision at the time, but you can't argue with results." She moved closer to Tsukune; her approach brought with it the intoxicating, honey-sweet scents that gave the boy a heady rush. Even more so when she brought her hand to his face and traced a cool finger along his cheek, over a small cut he hadn't even noticed. He winced, and brought his own hand up to the spot in her wake. Gyokuro observed the finger with great interest, then smiled again and lighted a hand on his good shoulder. "Yes, very fortunate."

He could not suppress his throat constricting in a gulp. Akuha said something, then, but he did not heed it, too occupied with a fierce self-reprimand. He should have prepared for this, should have remembered the effect the Fairy Tale leader had on him the last time. Merely being in her presence was to be drunk on sweet, potent ambrosia, one he could fast feel clouding his mind and better judgment. Even the deep, roiling darkness beneath his feet seemed to wash away. And…there was something else he needed to ensure, wasn't there? He tried to swat through the fog in his addled brain. He calmed his breathing, and gathered himself, silently locked in battle. Even so…he allowed himself a quick glance at their host. The blood in the wound on his cheek blazed hotter as he noticed her gaze was still fixed on him, even as Akuha continued to speak. _Focus on Akuha's voice, _he told himself, seeking safe harbor in the turbulent tempest.

"Hayate told you we were coming, right?" she was saying. "I know you're finicky about proper scheduling."

"Yes, he did," Gyokuro said, now turning away from Tsukune. "Though I must confess that in this instance, you could have barged right into my office unannounced, even had I been in the middle of a meeting. Which, I do have my next one in a couple of hours, but this…Oh, this comes before all! My wonderful dears, that you've brought this to me….Come, come! Give it here." Her eyes were trained on the package they had brought, like a child eyeing a gift on her birthday, and she held out her hand.

Without pause Akuha held up the case, but Tsukune, suddenly snapping to himself, cried out "Wait!" just as Gyokuro was about to take it. Both women halted, and looked at him with curiosity, and, in Akuha's case, mild warning. He could practically feel her willing her thoughts towards him: _Don't. Fuck. This. Up._

He frowned, meeting her glare. He wanted Moka back, too. She should know that. But he wouldn't be able to live with himself—and Moka wouldn't, either—if he simply gift-wrapped and handed the enemy a weapon that could be used to wipe out their world….Still, what would happen to Moka if he didn't comply? And even if he did, it still left him with Miyabi's troubling words. What would Akuha do if he tried to preserve Omote? An ache in his teeth alerted him to his clenched jaw, his will mired in conflict.

"I promise you, it's nothing dangerous." Gyokuro's voice soothed, as if she sensed his doubt. "Not to you, at least."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Rather than answer, Gyokuro paused, pursing the inviting lips and scanning the enclosure. The darkness continued to settle comfortably, and around the peacefully humming lamps that lined the walls, gnats and moths swarmed with avid curiosity. The first stars were just beginning to flicker on in the dark void above them. Amidst this tranquil slice of dusk, Gyokuro's voice, even in dismissal, rang sweetly to Tsukune's ears. "Never mind that. You will have to take me at my word."

"And what about my friends?" _Ah, yes, that was it. _"I want to see them, as well."

"All in good time. They are safe here, out of harm's way. We've been taking care of them. But, where are my manners? It is late, and I'm keeping you here in the dark without offering any food or comforts. Come. You both have had a trying day, and I'm sure you're eager to get off your feet. Especially you, dear." This to the bandaged boy. "There is a chapel close by where we can retire. Akuha knows the one. Can you endure a few minutes' walk?"

"Yes," Tsukune said quickly, not wanting Akuha to offer to carry him again in front of Gyokuro.

It was clear, however, that the young woman was hardly even concerned with this. "Food is nice. Moka would be better. We made a deal, Gyokuro."

"Yes, and I have honored it. Don't worry, you will soon be far from this place. But she is not on the island yet, and it will be a couple of hours before my soldiers have safely secured her. In the meantime, relax, and replenish yourselves."

His stomach voicing approval of the idea, Tsukune couldn't disagree. And his body did continue to ache….Akuha acquiesced as well, narrowing her eyes at her step-mother and saying: "Alright. We could use a bite. Plus, there are some questions I have for you, Gyokuro. Certain obscurities we need to clear up."

With that, they were on their way, leaving through the other end of the colonnade, following the fortress' paved-stone corridors inside, one after the next. The transition from the subdued, quiet beauty of the secluded garden to the cold, confined passageways made Tsukune uneasy. Here, there was even less light than had been in the garden, with fewer lanterns blazing on the walls, and he found himself longing to return to the lush outdoors.

True to Gyokuro's word, however, they arrived at the chapel in relatively little time. This lay behind a simple wooden door set almost innocuously along the wall, except for a couple of small, distinct features: climbing around the frame, in relief along the stone, was an intricate pattern of thick, tangled vines, tiny buds and leaves fanning out from the shoots, as well as some peculiar globular shapes. Part of the stone these clearly were, yet they almost seemed to pulse with a sickly animation all their own. It was beautiful work, thought Tsukune…but viscerally revolting, as well. He did not recognize this motif, but there was something stirred in memory, a whiff of a once sampled morsel, a vague, almost extrasensory perception of familiarity whose origin he could not locate….The relief crawled up the wall, converging above the apex of the door, where it formed a wreath-like crest, bronzed but faded, wherein were inscribed three large letters.

"ALV," Tsukune read aloud. "What's 'Alv?'"

Akuha moved to his side, craning her neck. "Not 'Alv', dummy. 'Alu'. It's Latin. Short for Alucard."

"A chapel dedicated to a demon, huh? Can't say I'm totally shocked."

Gyokuro gently brushed past the two and swept through the door. "He is the forerunner," she said simply. "Alucard has been revered by vampires for countless ages. Even more devotedly, perhaps, since his untimely demise two hundred years ago."

That said, for all that he knew of Alucard's terrible scale and power, the chapel was a relatively humble affair. Beyond the threshold rested a small, cozily-lit nave, a dull red carpeting that held a half dozen or so rows of pews; past the seats, doors led off beyond the transepts, one of them slightly ajar; at the end of the chapel was the simple chancel, where stood a mahogany lectern and a high, stone altar. This was carved with engravings half covered by a satin-lined wool frontlet, the rest not quite large enough to see from the boy's distance. Aside from a pair of servants, there was no one else here. Gyokuro gave them a quick order to retrieve some nourishment for her guests, before leading the pair to the half-open door in the chapel's side, through which Tsukune could now glimpse another short hallway. As he followed the woman past the chancel, Tsukune noticed a quick glare from under Akuha's dark brows, aimed at her back. He watched from his peripherals as she followed, stopping in front of the obscured altar and bowing her head slightly. A peculiar gesture followed: her hand rose and her fingers softly pressed against her forehead. Tsukune wondered if this was some sort of sign of respect; he had never taken Akuha to be the reverent, religious type. But he said nothing.

The adjacent hallway led to their ultimate destination, a cozily lit dining room, equally modest as the rest outside, with a table, bed, and other normal accoutrements. This room also seemed more modern, having actual lamps on the walls as opposed to blazing braziers; a crimson carpet matched the one outside.

"We hold weddings for our members here, on occasion," she told him upon inquiry. "We also passed a room where the bride might decide to stay the night before the big day, and also several small guest chambers, as you might have noticed. Certain diplomats sometimes lodge there, so they're arranged for a good level of comfort. I must confess I don't have much to do with the normal goings-on here, though. Our chamberlain oversees all such events." Tsukune was listening, but he was also focusing his efforts on hobbling to the nearest chair and finally sitting down with a groan loud enough to irritate any guests who might currently be neighboring. "Yes, please, make yourself comfortable. Relax, stretch out—well, not too much, perhaps. Wouldn't want to strain those injuries, love. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must leave you for a brief time. I won't be long, and your dinner should be here momentarily. Ah, ah," she said, shaking her head to intercept Akuha's objection, "There will be plenty of time to talk when I get back. Patience, sweetheart." Then, to Tsukune: "I've tried teaching it to her, but hard skulls repel words of wisdom, I'm afraid."

Expecting a biting retort to this, Tsukune was surprised when Akuha sat across from him, calmly folded her arms, inhaled sharply, and threw on a pleasant smile. "Very well. We'll wait. I bet you think I can't."

"I shall eagerly await the venture's results," Gyokuro replied, and with that, she left them, leaving the door open behind her.

Tsukune glanced again at his companion; she maintained her pose, one which he now noticed drew her shoulders tense, to the point where she was almost shaking. Not the first time he had observed Gyokuro instill this reaction in Akuha. Despite her cool words, he could tell it was taking all her discipline to sit quietly and wait to see Moka. She was really on edge, like a cat with its hairs bristling. His own grip on the crutch tightened, glancing quickly at the door. He felt he should say something, offer some soothing words of comfort, but before he could, a pair of servants shuffled into the guest room, ceremoniously slid two large covered platters onto the table between the pair, then bowed and made a quiet exit.

Famished though he was, after the past month of returning to mercifully normal food, Tsukune couldn't help but eye his lid with suspicion. Prepared for revulsion, he leaned forward and delicately removed the lid with two fingers, as if handling a hazardous substance, and was relieved to find a decidedly edible assortment before him, with roast duck on rice, small chocolate tarts, and a bit of hot bread next to a glass of red wine. He exhaled and looked up at Akuha, who was staring at him curiously. "What's wrong with you? Did you think it was raw human entrails or something?" she asked, and laughed. "Jeez, you acted like it was gonna explode as soon as you touched it!"

"Well…shut up," he said sheepishly, deciding not to inform her that 'raw' was an unnecessary qualifier to describe his aversion to human entrails. "I didn't know what to expect, honestly."

"Believe me, if we were going to kill you, don't you think I would have done it by now?"

He met her gaze; her eyes held no deceit, shining mirthfully like twin flames, before hurriedly being doused as she blinked and looked back down. "You have a point," he said. "And I'm thankful for it. But still…That's just you. It's not like I suddenly trust Gyokuro. We don't know what she's planning, and for all I know, that plan might involve getting me out of the way."

"Suit yourself. But I'm telling you it's safe. Not poisoned, drugged, or whatever." With that, she dug in. Tsukune, after watching her only a moment more, relented, and did the same. He approached the wine with hesitation, but found it hit just the right spot in his nerves; though still technically underage, it was hardly as if he hadn't tried any before, his father having slipped him a sip on his sixteenth birthday. He mirrored Akuha as she sopped some of the bread in the drink before eating it, and soon decided Fairy Tale, for what it was worth, had excellent culinary taste. He wondered with slight envy if Akuha ate this well on the airship, having been confined to the common mess hall for the duration of his stay.

They ate quickly, and not a moment went by after they were done before the servants swept in once more and wordlessly removed the dishes, then left the pair to themselves, muffled footsteps dwindling in the hall outside.

Tsukune's stomach felt fit to burst, but he was thoroughly content; he half felt like slinking down lazily in his chair. But Gyokuro would surely be returning shortly—she said she wouldn't be long, right? "Should we just wait here?" he asked Akuha. She frowned, fiddling with the dual strands of white hair as she leaned an elbow on the table. When she spoke, her voice was hushed, but stern, and not in answer to his question.

"Listen. Keep your guard up around Gyokuro."

"Huh, my guard?"

"Yes, just…be alert. I'm not certain, but…Well, at any rate, I'm warning you for your own good."

"What are you talking about? Before you were just telling me how everything was perfectly safe! What's going on!?"

"Quiet, idiot!" she hissed, eyes darting furtively to the door which the servants had closed in their wake; even so, the walls in the chapel were thin. She seized Tsukune's gaze and held it. "That's not what I meant. Calm the fuck down. It's more…I mean, come on, didn't you feel it? No, I know you did, the way you reacted like an eager werewolf pup when we ran into her. Don't try to deny it. I'm not blaming you, either. I'm trying to tell you—ugh, do you remember her power to sense auras, the one I told you about last time?" He nodded. "It's called Enemy Zero, and she can sort of…reverse its polarity, you could say, and project her own aura and will outward."

It was news to him, but not a total shock. "I think I understand. Do you think she activated it before?"

"I do, but not to its maximum extent. Really, I just think she always has it 'switched on', like she's constantly humming with that energy, and anyone who gets close is automatically affected. Of course, I've been around her long enough that I've built up a resistance, but you…Like I said, just be cautious."

Tsukune remained silent after she was finished. In truth, it made perfect sense, and went a ways toward explaining the…above average heat and headiness he felt swelter through his mind and body, both times now, in her presence. Had Gyokuro really been the source of that energy? He made a mental note to steel his own will when she returned.

The test for which was soon at hand; the door was gently opened, and Gyokuro returned, looking primly at her guests. She clapped her hands together. "I hope the meal was to your liking? We had only a little time to prepare once we heard you were coming, but I think we managed nicely. Don't ever let it be said I don't keep my daughter and her friends' bellies full!" Her eyes, glinting in the light, fell upon the case once more, sitting at Akuha's feet. "Now, shall we get to business? I believe that belongs to me."

Warily eyeing her superior, Akuha slowly handed it over. Gyokuro grasped it delicately, like it was a chest of rare, priceless gems; nimble fingers went to work on the touchpad lock, and the case clicked open, allowing her to peek inside, while keeping the contents hidden. Her eyes danced, and the slight tension that had taken residence in her countenance was quickly eroded by a wash of relief.

Already Tsukune was on edge, actively alert now for any hint of the power seeping from Gyokuro's shapely form into his mind. All he could feel, however, aside from the dull throbbing in his limbs, was a sense of warm contentment, which he attributed to their generous dinner. The woman seemed to have lost interest in them, anyway, once she had her hands on the package. Keeping it in her lap, she took a seat on the bed, smoothing out her dress beneath her with an elegance that reminded him of Kahlua. He briefly wondered if the other Shuzen assassin was currently with Moka.

"No doubt you have questions about my request." Her voice was perfectly relaxed, as calming as that cozy, if stuffy, little chamber. "But, I am not at liberty to discuss specifics. No, not even with you, Akuha. Tsukune, it is as I said before. You will have to take my word that this has nothing to do with our strife with humans."

"But what else could be so important?" Akuha demanded.

"Nice try, dear. That information is beyond your clearance level."

"That's odd. What position is higher than a division leader, other than your own?" Tsukune inquired.

"There are none," Akuha answered. "Or, if there are, I doubt we would know about them. But, generally, if something's above one captain's paygrade, it could just mean that only other select captains are in the know. That what this is, Gyokuro?"

"It's true, certain of my subordinates will sometimes have priority on information concerning them…Whether that is the case here, I cannot confirm or deny."

"That's not fair! You ask me to take you at your word, when I already don't trust you," Tsukune objected. He grew silent as Akuha placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"Don't bother. Once she's decided something is classified, there's no prying it out of her."

"He's right, of course," Gyokuro said airily, lazily rubbing a thumb along her arm. "There's no way for him to be certain I'm telling the truth. I could very well be lying. He has no reason to suspect otherwise, and every reason to dislike me. Fortunately, it's not really my concern whether you believe me or not, Tsukune. You have no other options."

The boy scowled, absently nipping at his lip hard enough to sting. It was true, he couldn't do anything about it even if she was lying…for the moment. Even now potential plans stormed in his head, as they had since before their arrival, and he dearly wished Gyokuro had been later in coming, so that he might at least gauge Akuha's inclination towards any endeavor he might make, even as far as escape. He could still feel her touch on him. Perhaps he could use her distaste of humans to his advantage? If she truly believed her step-mother's assurance that the item was unrelated to the war effort, even if it turned out to be a lie, would she stand in the way of him nabbing it? _Don't be ridiculous. _Of course he would have to do it in secret. What was he thinking?—if at all, for clear deliberation was once again proving a challenge. Was this Gyokuro's doing after all? Looking at her, she hardly seemed as if she were exerting any energy at all. Indeed she was fully engrossed in the case she now tapped and stroked, almost lovingly, as if eager to vacate this place and put to immediate use whatever they had delivered.

Or perhaps it wasjust the wine.

She faced them again, and placed the case aside. "What is my concern is that ugly business you endured on your flight here. Honestly, I can't help but feel responsible. It was my policy that put my Akuha in danger. I thought it was a good idea for each ship to have smaller units of firepower that were more maneuverable and tactical. I never imagined they would turn on their masters."

"Imagine that. Something didn't go as you planned," Akuha retorted. At Gyokuro's frown of worry, she sighed and sidled back to her chair to pick at the remains on her plate. "You should have known better from the start. Dragons can be unpredictable creatures."

"Oh, but I didn't think so! The ones I've had dealings with over the years have been nothing but well-mannered. Well, I guess that's what I get for settling for lesser stock."

"You probably couldn't get any Qiulong, am I right? Our country's dragons have too much respect to serve as your lackeys," Akuha said, and Tsukune couldn't help being struck by the pride she seemed to take in a creature other than vampires. "Not like those Graoullian Wyverns you saddled me with. Those European types have long ago lost the capacity for intelligence or speech. They're nothing but mindless animals now. Good riddance, I say. Although their scales did make excellent body armor…"

Hearing this triggered a reminder for Tsukune. "That's right!" he piped up, then sheepishly blinking as the two women stared curiously. "I just remembered I wanted to ask you guys, why aren't normal members of Fairy Tale allowed to transform out of their human forms unless ordered?"

"And what prompts such a question?" said Gyokuro.

"Back there, when we were fighting the dragons, it seemed like Akuha's soldiers were having trouble holding their own, since all they had were firearms. Wouldn't it have been more efficient if they could use their ayashi powers? For that matter, why didn't you order them to transform?" This last part, to Akuha.

Gyokuro spoke first, crossing one statuesque leg over the other, providing Tsukune with a revealing glimpse from which he had the presence of mind to quickly avert his eyes. "As to the policy, my dear, think of our members' human forms as a uniform. I've found enforcing such a 'dress code' to be a great way of instilling at least a modicum of decorum and discipline among our ranks. It gives our members context, reminds them of their position and their responsibilities. Even if we are a fairly loosely knit bunch, this is a professional enterprise, and when you have any group of ayashi transforming at their own whims, why, it's practically an invitation to chaos."

Tsukune thought back to some of his battles at school, incidents where other students would morph en masse to attack him and his friends. 'Chaos' was an apt word, he conceded.

"After all," she went on, "don't warriors in your law enforcements, your militaries, also commonly wear uniforms?"

"Yes, but that's different. They don't usually inhibit their combat ability."

"Ergo, the exception you mentioned comes into play. The decision when to allow it is entirely at Akuha's discretion, though. I try to avoid micromanaging. I'll rely on my division leaders, but there's enough on my plate as it is."

"So, why didn't you give the order?" he repeated, turning to the smaller woman.

"I guess I just didn't think of it," she said quickly, with a detachment Tsukune found almost affected, but resolved not to dwell upon it. "In any case, like she said, my ship, my decisions. It's nobody else's business."

"What is _my _business, however, is when I almost lose an entire division in the blink of an eye, and to the devices meant to protect them, at that. Have you uncovered any leads to what triggered their behavior?" Gyokuro asked sharply,

"My people are looking into it, but I didn't have time to wait for results. Wanted to come straight away and get this over with."

Tsukune could hear the irritated strain in Akuha's reply; he knew her well enough by now to know that she didn't like not having answers. It was the same way he felt regarding the contents of the case, which now rested by the glamorously shoed feet of Gyokuro, cold and impenetrable. He mused what would happen if he threw all caution to the wind, snatched it from under her nose, and fled, even finding a way to free his friends and retrieve Moka. He swallowed, tasting acrid fear, and fortunately for him, the idea was short-lived. There was no way off this floating prison other than the airship, and even if he could commandeer it, he had no knowledge how to even get it off the ground.

"I understand"—Gyokuro was still speaking—"Well, if you need any additional support with your investigation, I am more than happy to offer it. This…This is a troubling matter. Whatever you do find, be sure to keep me in the loop. Any creatures in my service acting against us is not something I plan to let become routine. Especially not when it puts my own, dear family in danger."

"Ugh, give me diabetes, why don't you," scoffed the girl. "I'll let you know if I find anything, you don't have to insist. Like I said earlier, as long you don't try to give me another bunch, we'll be fine. You know it wouldn't kill you to invest in more reliable defense mechanisms for the ships. I don't want to have to go topside to fend off every attacker in the future. Maybe mounted turrets?"

"Perhaps. Your suggestion is noted," Gyokuro replied smoothly. Her voice died down, and no one else spoke; it was, in fact, quite silent, now that he listened. Across the table, Akuha still picked at her leftovers, and on the bed, Gyokuro sat unmoving. There were no sounds from the corridor, or the main chapel beyond; if there were any guests, their sounds could not penetrate the walls. But there were none, was the thought that drifted unconsciously through his mind. The lamps flickered in his periphery, and looking at their glow filled him with a surging heat, almost as if their energy was entering his body through his eyes. The lights and shadows danced a show for him, waxing and waning, the room brightening and dimming in turns, steadily, pulsating, like a heartbeat.

Was this truly the power Akuha had warned him about? So smooth and calming and sensual. Though his experience was limited, he could tell this was a sensation beyond alcohol. Beyond the charm of the succubus, too, in its intensity. Once again his hearing was muffled, and he vaguely heard her demanding tone regarding Moka's return, and something from Gyokuro about her soldiers being close to arriving on the island. He was aflame with excitement, his palms already damp in anticipation at the long-waited reunion.

"There is one more thing I would ask of you."

Gyokuro's voice strummed through his reverie like dulcet strings. He looked at her again, and found the gaze returned; under the shadowed lashes sparked a flash in her eyes he had not seen before, and he felt like a rabbit trapped in a lynx's sights. The glow of the lights seemed to envelop him, and comfortable warmth hummed throughout his body and limbs. Try as he might, his mind would not cease its unbidden wanderings into corners best left untouched.

"Hold on," Akuha said. "What's this 'one more'? There is no 'one more', Gyokuro. Whatever it is, you can forget it. We made our deal, and we've fulfilled our end. You don't get extra toppings. We'll just wait here until Moka arrives, and once she does, I don't want her taking a single step that doesn't bring her closer to me. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Not at all," Gyokuro replied sweetly, leaning back on the bed to prop herself on an elbow. If Akuha noticed how her eyes remained on her companion, she gave no indication. "However, you should have no problem with this final stipulation, either, as it does not concern you, dear."

Akuha, her attention not previously on her commander, now turned sharply in her chair, the red eyes narrowing and fingers unconsciously rapping on the back of the seat. "I don't follow."

"It's really quite simple. All I require is something I have gone without longer than I'd care to admit," she said with a chuckle. "Something our young friend here can give to me, if he'd be so kind." Her lips spread in a teasing grin, and the fangs descended sharp and deadly.

"You can't mean…the Shinso blood!"

"Not quite. Don't alarm yourself so; I have no plans to sip from your precious supply. Besides, the blood is from _her _veins. The stomach churns at the thought of putting such a substance in my body." She grimaced, then recalled her purpose and made her features pleasant again. Rising quickly, she seemed to glide over to the boy's chair, slinked behind him, and placed her hands on his shoulders where Akuha's had been just minutes before. "No. You see, it has been far too many ages since I've felt a man's touch; I've forgotten what it tastes like, and all I desire is to remember. Would you assist me, dear boy?"

The admission hung in the silent air, swirling around the seated pair, rendering them dumb. At that particular moment, Tsukune's head had been completely free of fog, and as such, he had heard clearly what the woman requested. A knot formed in his gut, and felt as if invisible hands suddenly yanked violently on the cords.

She wanted…what? That word was the only one that managed to scrape past his throat.

Akuha's voice found escape much more easily, dripping with disgust. "What the—Did you seriously just say what I think you did, Gyokuro? Wow, are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Language, sweetheart. To think, that my parenting would engender such a tongue."

"Well, you can forget it! No way in hell is Tsukune doing—_that—_with you! Use your own fingers if you're that desperate."

"This does not concern you," Gyokuro repeated sternly, dropping her head next to Tsukune's. A few loose locks feathered against his cheek, her fragrance clouding his senses once more. "How about it, sweetheart? I'm sure it's been ages since you felt release, and at your age that is especially unhealthy. What, with all the stress that's been plaguing your life as of late, I wouldn't want you to keep that bottled up. Allow me to soothe your body and spirit." Her very tone bespoke irresistible temptation and unimagined delights. This had to be it, he realized with clarity: for sure it was not merely the woman's natural charms he had felt. Her powerful will was choking the room, probing and teasing his resolve, his willingness. She pressed closer, and he felt her curves grace his back, the swell meeting firm muscle with tender, forbidden promises. Warmth ignited into flame, sizzling and crackling to every extremity, pure intoxication; despite Akuha's warning, and his mighty effort to heed it, the struggle was boding ill for him, with every touch of her fingers, every gentle and inviting word that dripped from those tempting lips, delicately unraveling and stripping away the fabric of resistance.

After all, what would be the harm? He had already engaged in such pleasures with Moka, and even her sisters; surely this woman, with her exceeding loveliness and experience, could surpass all others and make him forget, at least for a time, the pressures and anxieties with which this conflict had ravaged his spirit.

Such were the coaxing whispers between his ears – A tempting voice – Her voice.

This realization, seemingly through its mere existence, unexpectedly gave him a kernel of strength to regain a portion of his own will. "No," he scratched, finding words amidst the swarming haze, trying to waft it back. "Sorry, but I won't do it. I don't know if you're trying to get me on your side or something, but whatever it is, I can fight your influence."

"You refuse like I'm offering you a poisoned cloak," she rejoined, feigning hurt, focusing on the boy and ignoring the frozen shock of her stepdaughter, who, for the moment, seemed to have taken her turn at being void of words. "Surely you can't find me that gruesome, even at my age?"

"That's not—" he stopped, recalling that he need not bother trying to spare her feelings. "I'm with Moka, and—" Again he paused, unable to continue the thought. _And I would never betray her like that. _Ah, but did he dare to insist upon this, after all that had passed?

Gyokuro, watching, seemed to glean insight from the shadows flitting about his expression. She echoed his thoughts aloud: "Hm? What were you going to say? Can you really use that girl as an excuse, considering to what use you've already put this wayward cock?" At the word, a suddenly aggressive hand found its way to the organ, grasping it firmly through his pants. At that moment, the flames of heady fever that had been raging through his body died with a gasp, the haze vanishing without a trace, revealing nothing but the dark, stuffy room, naked and silent and cold as his clammy flesh. Her arms caressed him, her fingers stroked him: her flesh the soft strands of silken web that entrapped his body, and he felt afraid once more.

The clear vision watered that seed of strength, however, bolstering his resistance further. He would not fall prey to this demon's spell. He could not deny his previous dalliances, but Moka…well, she was Moka. Kahlua…she had been forced. And Akuha…that was a special case, the nature of which he wasn't entirely sure. One thing was certain, however: whatever he had done with Akuha, the thought of repeating it with Gyokuro made him morbidly ill.

"Enough," he said loudly, finding her wrist and removing it from unwanted anchor. His face was strained with the effort of his will; hers, with only a slight, smooth surprise. "I don't know what you thought was going to happen here, but I'm really not interested. We're here for Moka; like Akuha said, that was the deal."

It was a moment before she spoke. She moved back around to the bed, tapping her chin thoughtfully, her mouth folding into a gentle line. "I understand. Your sense of loyalty is admirable, and rather surprising in a man. Well, if that is your decision…I can't make it for you, of course. Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?" He shook his head. "That is disappointing. Oh, when I tell them you refused, what will they think?"

"What will who think?"

"I'm glad you asked." She smiled, then, looking past him, called out clearly: "We're ready for you now."

The words flew by and out the open door, and Tsukune's head turned at the sound of shuffling feet, muffled voices and clanking. These grew louder by the moment, until at last the sound reached him in full, and, though still incoherent and wordless, plucked at the strings of recognition. A moment more and two officers entered, in full garb, parading in behind them the small group of prisoners, chained in single file, still shuffling awkwardly into the room.

"Kurumu!"

Tsukune shouted out his friend's name as he spotted her first. At her heels, Mizore then trudged into view, followed by Fong Fong, bringing up the rear. His face went deathly pale at the sight, bitter cold nipping at his cheeks.

They were naked, the three of them—almost naked, at least. Each was clad only in underwear, leaving very little room for imagination or attempts at modesty. Their bare feet trudged forward, quietly, over the carpet. They were gagged, as well, thus the garbled sounds of protest and fear. Kurumu's eyes were wide, darting around the room with wild fright; Mizore looked at the floor, hair curtaining her eyes, more ghostly white than usual; the Wong heir stared dead ahead, brows knotted tensely, indignation in his eyes. Yukari, he noted, was not present. Chains, indeed, bound them, at neck and wrists and ankles, the end held by the officer in charge of this display of humiliating subjugation.

Tsukune was on his feet in a flash, snarling, unabashed by their state of undress. "Gyokuro! What the fuck is this?!" He seized hold of the links binding Mizore's wrists and shook them, as if trying to wrench them free—shatter them—anything. They clinked and jingled and cruelly jeered but would not surrender their prey. He glared at the woman, seeing clearly now the rot beneath the skin, the crack in the portrait, the wretched cruelty unmasked. "Have you completely lost your mind?!" he bellowed.

"Not to my knowledge," she replied innocuously, showing little reaction to the boy's outburst. "How else did you expect us to keep our prisoners? In silk robes and opulent thrones? Besides, I merely thought you might like a nice reminder as to your position."

"My _position?"_

"Indeed. While I did retrieve Moka as promised, what I decide is in store for the prisoners is still an open question. Bring them to me." This last part, to the officer in charge, who turned his leering eye away from the captives, yanked them forward in a stumble towards the bed, out of the human's reach, and made a slight bow to his superior.

"Don't you dare threaten them," Tsukune growled. "I swear to God you'll regret it. And where's Yukari?"

"Who?"

"The little witch." The answer came, softly, not from Tsukune, and he turned to see Akuha staring blankly, distantly, at the scene before her. She had not spoken for a few minutes, and even now seemed lost in thought. He felt an additional surge of anger. Was that all she was going to say?

"Ah, yes, her. Don't worry. She is back in the cell where I left her."

"Then why did you bring them at all?" he demanded, motioning towards the trio. Kurumu was glancing anxiously between the people in the room, fear only in her obscured expression when she looked at Gyokuro. Her eyes shot open at the sudden contact on her exposed rear, the woman's cold hand clenching the warm, rounded flesh, her little finger creeping deep between her smooth thighs. She gasped, an almost silent sound behind her gag, and Gyokuro smiled.

"Because they, unlike her, can provide me the distraction I seek. The witch girl is far too young for my tastes."

Her meaning quickly dawned, and his teeth ached for grinding. "Your tastes….Then you mean—"

"If not with you, then I'll simply have to indulge with them. The choice is yours. I must say, I've never experienced another female before, but I'm not averse to the idea. Especially this one, what with the succubi's reputation." Then, to Kurumu, hand still on its resting place: "Tell me, dear, is it true what they say? I would be utterly shocked if you're not as divine a lover as the rumors go. Well, let's check what you're working with, at any rate." With that, her hand moved again, snaking inside the girl's undergarment, and, before anyone could blink, she had slipped a digit inside Kurumu. The girl squeaked sharply at the intrusion, and her cheeks blazed with flame. "Hmm. Cunt seems to be in good order—Oh? What's this? You are untouched, I see? How delightful," Gyokuro assessed cheerfully. "I might just have to let my men have a taste, as well. They have seemed so anxious lately, what with the dawn of war nigh. They could use the diversion."

Tsukune, for his part, stood frozen to the spot. At Kurumu's cry he had almost charged forward, uncontrollably, to swing at Gyokuro with all his might, and to hell with the leering guards still at her side. At least, such was how he felt. But the pain in his leg and arm, absent these past few minutes while the vampire's will soothed his neural receptors, had sauntered its way back into his body, and the lightest press of toe upon ground nearly brought him down in a heap. He could only watch in a boiling rage. His gaze drifted to Mizore: she had snapped to attention at Kurumu's distress, and now looked on with a wild worry uncommon to her frosty features, the wintry blue eyes a frantic, frigid storm, trying to communicate something silently to her friend. He thought to himself that he had not seen that expression since her ordeal with Miyabi.

"This…This was your intention all along, wasn't it?" he hissed. "Your reason for taking them prisoner, keeping them here. You were planning on putting me in this position."

Gyokuro withdrew her glistening hand and glanced at the sickened boy, amused. "Not specifically, no. This desire is one born of the moment. But, I will admit that their residence here was prompted by the usefulness I suspected they would have in managing your actions. And look! Fine opportunity has been presented to test my theory. And in a safe, noncritical context. So, then? What's it going to be?"

Not in all of his wildest imaginings of what Fairy Tale would do, of the new, twisted world they were trying to create, could he have conjured this possibility. Strange, too, now that it presented itself, for it was such a thing that had jumpstarted his captivity and the bizarre, ambiguous occurrences and relationships he had weathered these last couple of months. Now that the choice had arrived, what to do? Every ounce of his blood screamed at him to seize Gyokuro by the throat and tighten grip – the building rage even had him considering making the effort to draw upon any Shinso power he had – but his muscles still kept the reins on his will. Gyokuro wouldn't even need to lift a finger; those officers could finish him as easily as hunters stalking a wounded beast. His range of options was severely limited.

And yet…did he dare actually consider that? Did he dare offer this total surrender? The alternative meant subjecting the others to similar, and worse, fates. To allow that would be unconscionable. Which left only….But how could he betray Moka like that?

He could see it now. This was a game of power, and domination, just as much as it was about lust, which evidently was a burning passion within her. It was, he realized, about Moka, about striking at the heart of the detested girl, the daughter of her bitter rival. What more potent wound than inserting herself, the girl's enemy, between her and him, taking a blade to their hearts, carving out more misery for them? He grimaced, and tasted rich copper on his tongue. But he made no sound, and his heart convulsed and heaved as it stumbled along towards its decision.

In the end, there was but one. He silently begged Moka's forgiveness, and braced his nerves. If he had to make this sacrifice to ensure his friends' safety and dignity, then it must be done. As he began to speak, Kurumu's vocal protests paused. "Let them go. They have nothing to do with this. I'll…do what you ask. As long as you promise that no harm comes to them—And I mean of any kind, from you, or anyone under your command!"

Gyokuro smiled, and removed her hand from Kurumu as she reclined on the bed; for a moment, Tsukune had the briefest notion that she would reject his terms and take what she wanted, regardless. But it was not the case. "Your wishes are acceptable. I'm glad we've been able to come to this understanding." Then, turning to her men: "Return them to their cells. Remove their muzzles if you wish, but make sure no hands are laid upon them."

"Y-Yes, ma'am," the lead guard stuttered, resolute but obviously disappointed that he would not get to quench his desires with the two female prisoners. Seizing the chain once more, he motioned to his companion and led the trio from the chamber, all three twisting their necks to look at their friend. Words were not needed for him to know what they wanted to say, but he had to do this for them.

In a few seconds, they were out of sight; a few more, and their voices and footsteps vanished in the wake. He stood still as stone, uncertain what to do, now confronted with the situation. Gyokuro had not moved from her spot. He swallowed: was she expecting him to initiate?

An awkward shuffle forward, tepid, unwilling even in the face of necessity. The woman shifted and made to unclasp the gems hanging from her throat, setting the piece gingerly aside. Her eyes met his, warm candles flickering in the light, set above pink, gleaming lips, and he felt the full force of her power snake over his flesh, penetrate his core. The stabbing pains in his muscles once more receded under the wash of the waves. Another foot forward.

"Wait!"

The cry rang sharply, halting his step on a dime. Both he and Gyokuro turned to see Akuha, risen from her seat, standing and staring. At their attention, her mouth dropped open again, but nothing came forth. She gaped, aghast, eyes wide and arms stuck to her sides as if bound there by tight ropes. She seemed embarrassed by her outburst, and could find no more words.

"Akuha, darling, I had just about forgotten you were there," Gyokuro said. Though her expression and tone betrayed none of it, Tsukune felt the twinge of her irritation at the delay pulse through the snare in which she held him. But, indeed, she merely smiled and let her legs part as she reclined further, giving Tsukune a glimpse from which he could not turn away this time. Her fingers lighted on a smooth, tan thigh and lingered, tracing the flesh delicately. "If you want to stay and watch, I suppose that's alright. But really, I didn't expect you to be such a voyeur! What would your sisters think?"

"You can't!" She was looking wildly between them, before settling on him. Her pitch rose, her voice cutting. "What are you doing? Are you actually agreeing to this? You can't possibly—And you! You dare to take—!" She cut herself off as she realized, she wasn't sure what she actually wanted to say, as a vicious desperation coursed beneath her breast. Her eyes fogged, and she blinked it away, suddenly dizzy as her midnight tresses curtained the wan face. What was this sensation? Not since Moka's abduction had she felt so completely lost and helpless, so stricken with a sudden emptiness in the face of something she could not prevent.

"What choice do I have?" Tsukune interrupted softly. "You saw my friends. They may not mean much to you—I know, I won't hold it against you—but I can't let that be their fate." The way he looked at her, then…No, no, this tightness in her chest was most unacceptable! Whatever it may be, she would not allow this to proceed!

"You look ill, Akuha," Gyokuro said, and she realized she was clutching the back of her chair with white knuckles, as if struggling to remain standing. "Perhaps you should go to your own chambers and lie down while you wait for us. I don't see what your objection is here. What does it matter to you if I indulge myself with this human?"

"It doesn't!" The words flew from her mouth like birds freed from a cage, yet as soon as they had gone, she wished she had not sprung the latch. Her mind darted back and forth, at war with itself; sweat misted cold on her brow, in her palms. She sputtered out: "Th-The mere thought that you would profane this place—in the house of Alucard. That's blasphemy, Gyokuro! I won't allow it."

"Alright, now you are being silly. Blasphemy? That's your story? What is your issue, girl? I am beginning to grow weary of your outbursts. You should still your tongue before careless words leak between your teeth. Or, perhaps you simply don't want anyone else to sip from what you've come to believe is your own glass?"

"N-no, it's nothing like that. He is not— We haven't in a—It's just—You can't!" she repeated. Tsukune, equally flustered by Gyokuro's suggestion, remained silent.

"Yet you cannot give me a convincing reason why. Instead, you bluster like a spoiled brat, absent any regard for my authority. You may leave, and wait outside, if you cannot control yourself. I'll summon you once we are finished here; whether that comes sooner or later…well, I think you might have a better idea of that than I." She laughed, and her eyes flickered to the boy's waist.

Akuha seemed like she was about to explode, but, Tsukune, not wanting her to throw herself onto the pyre after he had already resigned himself to its flames, spoke to her, voice hollow. "Akuha, please. It's alright. I'm thankful for your concern, but you don't have to get caught up in this for my sake. I'll survive this. Whatever it takes to protect those guys, to get Moka back….They've always looked after me, and there's been little I could do to help them when they needed it. But, if I can do this much…."

He did not finish, for Akuha had turned away from him, eyes hidden beneath black and strips of white. "Unacceptable," she muttered, repeating the word softly, almost as if not meaning to be heard, before abruptly dashing to the door; Tsukune caught a trace of her light perfume as she whisked by, and was gone before he could say another word.

"Don't worry about her," came Gyokuro's reassurance from the bed. "She doesn't like her toys being played with. Never was fond of sharing."

"As I told you the last time, I am _not _her toy." His teeth were clenched as his gaze lingered on the door.

"Very well. But it is no matter, for right now, you are mine."

She was beside him, suddenly, and he felt the smooth caress of her words along the back of his neck. He turned sharply, heart seizing in his chest as her eyes captured his. There were no words; she only smiled, a predatory grin of lust and triumph. Her hand drifted to her shoulders and slowly, teasingly, brushed aside the straps of her dress, letting it cascade down her legs and bundle at her feet. Only undergarments remained, along with the thin white gloves that hugged up to her elbows, hiding ever so little from the boy's trapped eyes, which were unwillingly lured to outline her curves and dips, her swells and contours.

She clasped his wrist, and without warning, her grip tightened. With inhuman strength she dragged and tossed him onto the bed. He turned on his back, muscles once more cringing in immense pain, and faced her, as she followed him and crawled up the foot of the bed. "Are you nervous?" she crooned. Her red eyes had darkened, filled with a vacant, consuming blackness. Absently, she sighed, and murmured: "Oh, if she could only see this."

Then she was above him, legs swinging to the side to take her mount. Her hand reached to his crotch. "So let's see"—fumbling, undoing—"just what skill"—tearing away fabric, grasping hold of timid member and pumping it to attention—"you have with this."

Tsukune was frozen still beneath her, and despite the shame and the horror that wrenched his gut, his body's ultimate betrayal was now imminent. He could do nothing to stop it, only make attempt to fix Moka's face behind his eyes. The images of Omote and Ura danced about, a balm and a twist of the knife all at once. He tried to imagine it was they who were about to slip him inside; one face, looking at him with pensive sympathy, the other, a cool, yet not unkind countenance. The third…Wait, third?

The familiar youthful visage drifted in to mix with the others, then it was Akuha staring at him, eyes wild with red flame, whirling infernos, hair streaming and darkened further by the light of the hall as she….Wait, this was no illusion!

His head had tilted to one side on the pillow, giving him a view past Gyokuro through half-lidded eyes. He had been watching, distracted by the hazy images, when the door swung open, casting Gyokuro's form in utter darkness, and through which stormed Akuha. In a mad dash she crossed the room. Yet before he could even make a sound, she was on them, seizing Gyokuro by the shoulder and tearing her away from her perch. Gyokuro let out a startled yelp as she tumbled to the floor. Recovering, she rose shakily, jerking her gaze between the shocked boy on the bed, naked and jutting firmly up in the air, and her step-daughter, the sight of whom gave her clarity as to what had happened. Her expression hardened into a frightfully vicious glare, and the ice in her voice froze his veins, smothering the cursed fires that had been on the verge of singeing him.

"_What is the meaning of this? _Akuha! Explain yourself!" She did not even bother to cover up.

Akuha, however, suddenly seemed to be completely confounded, as if just now waking up from a dream and discovering she had sleep-walked; she stood there with a blank expression, mouth hanging open but absent words in her defense. "I…You…I was…."

"Well? Speak!"

But nothing more than continued babble was forthcoming.

"At last, I think the truth begins to take form," Gyokuro said after a moment, ignoring her, now snatching a sheet from the bed and wrapping it around herself. "You wretched child. I knew you must have formed some special attachment to him, but I never would have guessed it would make you would throw everything away over some juvenile sense of envy. At least, not over someone other than your precious Moka."

"W-what?!" Akuha threw a glance over to the boy, who was still too dazed to move. "No. No! He's got nothing to….I—He is still _my _prisoner, damn it! I decide his fate. Besides, staining Alucard's chapel like that, it could not be allowed."

"Ha! Again with that nonsense? Well, whatever you must tell yourself, this is inexcusable. A blatant assault on your commander, the very idea…I did not raise you like this!" she said shrilly. This time, Akuha was silent. She had been furious enough to prevent Gyokuro from having her way with Tsukune, but looked cowed at the mention of what would easily be construed as insubordination.

"Out! I want you out, both of you! Yes, you too, boy. My officer's behavior has sullied my mood. I have no idea what about you has inspired such mad possessiveness in her, but it matters not. It is not worth my troubles. If she doesn't want to share her toys like a greedy girl, she can keep them and sulk."

Tsukune was on his feet in a moment, gathering his clothes from around the bed and hobbling his way next to Akuha, a place that suddenly appeared as the safest harbor on this whole island. He felt more physically depleted than he could ever recall, even stopping so short of completing the heinous coupling taking its toll.

"Not until we have Moka," Akuha said firmly as he joined her.

"_Moka!?" _Gyokuro sounded as incredulous as though she just seen Akasha herself.

"You have your trinket, which was to be exchanged for Moka's return to my ship. No matter what else has happened, that deal remains intact. I insist, Gyokuro. I'm already displeased that you decided to flip the switch on the next stage without me"—there was no point in hiding her suspicions from Tsukune anymore, and indeed it barely seemed to register—"I thought we agreed I'd be the one to oversee her role in the operation. I made absolutely sure that I was the one to hold her rather than any of the other captains. That was the only reason I agreed to let her be used for the process, so I could ensure she passed through it as harmlessly as possible! Then, his blood starts flaring up into burning fevers, and it's all because you recovered her right away and sent her to the stations early, isn't it? What the hell is that about?"

Gyokuro appeared confused by the accusation, her rage momentarily stilled, until Akuha gave her reasoning. Then it made sense. She said dismissively: "A preemptive measure born of nagging suspicion. Concern over where your priorities lay, and whether your attachments would tip the scales out of balance. As I can now see they have. Though not, as I imagined, for your darling sister…That much is an unexpected twist." She tried to slow her breathing, to calm the violent flames stoked by lust and the interruption of its fulfillment. "No, perhaps it was you yourself who should have guarded against whatever influence he seems to exert—Oh, he most certainly does, if I know a thing or two about that subject. What else would ignite you so? I can see it plainly on your face. And there you were, worried about _Moka_ being 'corrupted' by his presence."

"You're insane," Akuha choked out, throwing out every denial she could conjure, feeling all at once like she had been plunged into a frigid pool, the water scorching her flesh.

"Perhaps I was…Yes, but it seems I made the right decisions after all." She flashed a steely glance at Akuha's puzzled look. By now she had gone to fetch her own discarded garments, and, slipping them on, gathered herself regally. "Your actions have convinced me. Moka will not be delivered back into your care."

A stunned silence swept through the chamber; the lamps on the wall burned and tossed their dim light across the still figures in that charged, heated room. Glancing at Akuha, Tsukune sensed a sudden spike in her energy, and her heart dropping like a brick into her stomach in rhythm with his own.

"Come again? I don't think I heard you correctly," was all she said.

"Your ears are working just fine. What? After all that you have shown me, do you honestly expect me to reach any other conclusion than that you are unfit for this task? That you are swayed and ruled by your emotions, and will act on them before anything else when you are so moved?" At this, she slipped her covered arms through the heavy sleeves of her overcoat, leaving Tsukune as the sole unclothed person in the room, though he was still too absent to pay it much mind. "I have been patient. Heaven knows I have honestly tried to give you a number of chances. I had my misgivings when you demanded retention of Moka on your ship, knowing your history with the girl. And what do I get for finally relenting? You allow her to be snatched right from under your nose, and you fall to utter pieces as a result, powerless as a naked, newborn bat. Then you tell me you're passing the time among humans, which would be acceptable given the circumstances, if I didn't have to hear from Miyabi how you're growing soft in their company. Complacent. Even more at the mercy of your emotions."

"Miyabi?" Akuha interjected sharply. "What does he have to do with this?"

"A great deal, as a matter of fact. As Fairy Tale has grown, managing all the individual squads and captains by myself has become…difficult. I find it helpful to occasionally focus on select leaders, to have them act as the enforcers of my will. Miyabi has proven himself particularly useful, in this regard. When I doubted your resolve, your commitment to our cause above all else, he brought Moka under his care, so I could observe what actions you would take, how you would handle yourself. You've done nothing to assuage my concerns."

This lashed the reins back on Tsukune's attention. "He brought…" he croaked, "Are you saying it was _you_? You were the ones who kidnapped her?!"

"Kahlua found it an unhappy burden. She's nearly as infatuated with Moka as this one is. Fortunately, she is a good girl, and knew to carry out her objective as commanded."

So it was that Tsukune learned the full truth. Moka had not been abducted by outside forces, nor had Kahlua been abducted at all. As it stood, they had both been aboard Miyabi's submersible base—And still remained there, in fact. They were never going to be brought to the island. Upon their arrival, Gyokuro had been considering a final evaluation of Akuha's qualification for overseeing Moka and her part in their project. Yet this was merely a nicety; her intuition had helped make up her mind long before now, and she did not expect it to be wrong, nor for Akuha to prove herself otherwise worthy and tractable for what would need to be done, not after all that had transpired. Still, perhaps there was no harm in one last close examination of Akuha's mind. Such had been her reasoning.

Akuha, for her part, looked to Tsukune far calmer over the revelation of Fairy Tale's complicity in Moka's disappearance than she did at the news of their postponed reunion—A knife equally embedded in his own breast, fear mingled with wrath dripping from the open wound into his gut.

She seethed, voice trembling and livid. "So you lied…about everything. I thought there might be some sort of deranged test you had cooked up, but….And now you're trying to screw me out of what is rightfully mine? We made a fucking _deal," _she repeated. "Moka for whatever…thing you had us bring you!"

"Did I not 'retrieve' the little Akasha-dropping?" the woman sneered. "Those were the terms, yes? You ought to word your conditions more carefully in future. Besides, even if you had, do not make the mistake of reaching beyond your station and making demands of me. I could have very easily given you that mission as a direct order, and you can take it that way, if it helps snap your mouth back together."

"Oh, I'm thinking of snapping something," the girl hissed. Her eyes burned with anger, and for a moment Tsukune thought he saw a flicker of fear cross Gyokuro's own fury-laced visage. The next words out of Akuha's mouth were a simple "Who, then?"

"Who? Who what? Use your words, girl."

"Who's in charge? What incapable shit did you decide on granting my position to, hm?"

"Hardly incapable," she replied primly, "but, as he and the captains of divisions five and seven have already initiated the synchronization, Miyabi will maintain possession of Moka and see this task through to completion, as originally intended."

At last, this was the final straw for Akuha. That her beloved sister, already absent her presence so long, and already having spent an inexcusable length of time under that man's slimy wing, should there remain, snatched from her protection by her own conniving stepmother and trusted sister…It was a flint that threatened to ignite all the wrath of the ancient and terrible blood that now coursed molten.

"This will not happen!" she shrieked. "She is not yours to take and give away, least of all to that grinning fuck! I do not accept this, Gyokuro!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before placing the worthless girl on a pedestal above all else."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Akuha shot forward like a bullet, arm raised and fingers spread as if to strike. To Tsukune, it was a familiar sight; but Gyokuro was not Akasha, and he wondered if she would have less compunction about striking down her adopted daughter if attacked. He wanted to shout, to stop the lunging girl, but of course there was no time for words. His lips were hardly parted, when Akuha's arm swung home, only to be stopped short, blocked, caught at the elbow by the iron grip of Fairy Tale's leader. The fingers around the limb clenched, and Akuha winced and gave a small cry to the sound of a faint crack, before the arm was roughly released and shoved back.

"So be it," came the bellow in reply. "You want to push me one step further, fine: then you will be stripped of position entirely!" In the silence that followed she continued: "Enough is _enough! _My leniency is at an end. Your insubordination now extends to treason, does it? Attacking your commander and directly defying my expressed orders. No, my decision is final! You are unsuited for further command, and I hereby rescind your status as captain of Fairy Tale."

"What…did you just say?" came the whispered words. "I'm…I _am _a captain. You cannot simply steal from me on a sudden whim a position I've earned from years of work and dedication to the cause."

"Whim? After what you've done? I have every right to reassign or replace you as I see fit, difficult task though it may be. You should be grateful that's all I'm doing. Remove yourself back to your ship—I will permit you to remain docked there for the night, as a mercy, but come the first light of sun, you are to be far from this island."

Forearm in hand, Akuha wiggled her fingers experimentally, trying to clench them into a fist. "Alright," she hissed, "you want to play it like that? Well, I hope you guys have hidden Moka well, because I won't rest until I've found her and wrenched her away from that swine. If I have to raid and plunder every single division base in every corner of the globe, so be it. And then, I'll carry out the eradication of the human world myself, with or without you. She is _mine, _Gyokuro! Not you, not the entirety of Fairy Tale is allowed to keep her from me."

These words brought about a momentary stillness, and Gyokuro's piercing gaze took a scornful turn upon the stricken pair. Her brow was troubled, and her nostrils flared, but she betrayed no other emotion. Her fingers clasped at her waist, and she said, in a measured tone: "I see. If that is your intent"—With that, she cut her words short, and swept by them towards the door, her coat catching one of the empty dishes on the table and casting it to the floor with a violent shatter. Pausing there, startled, she gathered herself, turned, and said: "One other thing. I would consider boosting my opinion of Miyabi, if I were you. He is very soon to become a member of this family, and I would not have more discord from you clouding an otherwise celebratory occasion."

This seemed enough to shake Akuha out of her wrath. "Fam…family…" she echoed, confused, still clutching her arm. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I have promised him Kahlua's hand, a subject he broached with me recently. His service to our cause swayed my mind from its initial misgivings."

"So it was true," Tsukune murmured, just loud enough to be heard. Akuha looked at him in horror. Then, louder he said: "Why would Kahlua ever agree to that?"

"What business is it of yours, boy? As I said before, Kahlua is an obedient daughter. Proper training mixed with good breeding shaped her as our hands desired when she was a child. Unlike certain others whom I could speak of…."

For Moka, and now Akuha and Kahlua, Tsukune felt the pangs of anger once more, but this time felt powerless to redress them. "You put Kahlua through the same hell the Miao did to Akuha in China, didn't you? What kind of sick things did you and Issa subject her to? Never in a million years could I imagine her kidnapping Moka or marrying Miyabi, even if she was ordered to. You must have done some number on her."

Her eyes seemed to dance at the question, and her smile spread to her ears. "Akuha might be able to give you some idea, if you ask her. Personally, I am not about to give away our secrets, but I will leave you with one little morsel. Let's just say that a child's imagination can be a wonderful tool. But enough of this. Akuha, you have one night. Wait…no, I'll even throw in the next day, too. Go back to the ship; it will take you tomorrow evening at latest wherever you choose to go, and then be brought back here by a pilot of my selection. Oh, and you can do with this boy what you will, too. I do not care. Farewell, then. If you seek comfort, take it in the fact that all your wishes for the world of humans will be accomplished regardless of your treachery." Then she was quiet again, though it appeared she was about to say something more; but she refrained and quickly left the room, slamming the door behind her.

_To be continued…_


	18. For Want of Sanity, Pt 3

**For Want of Sanity, Pt. 3**

Neither person spoke for several minutes after Gyokuro's departure. Tsukune, quiet as a mouse, stood staring at the door before dropping his clothes down in a pile, and bending down to pick up each article one by one and slide it haphazardly on, his expression blank. Akuha had collapsed without warning back into one of the chairs, her breathing shallow as if she had taken a club to the back of the skull. All fury and defiance siphoned out and evaporated.

Tsukune had barely finished getting dressed when a guard entered the room, uninvited, sent to escort them back to the docking bay where they could remain for the night. Both went along, docile as lambs, still too stunned to offer any protest. Not that it would have accomplished much. These grunts wouldn't have been privy to any information about this matter. Yet before they could even give much thought to any form of resistance, they found themselves back at the airship. By now the sun had gone, and dark engulfed the island.

The dock around the vessel had been cordoned off, and a small detachment of soldiers placed by the craft itself. They had certainly arrived with remarkable rapidity, mulled Tsukune.

Several others he recognized with them: Hayate, primarily, who was engaged in vehement conversation with one of the men, his expression astonished and his hand sliding along his brow as he listened and argued. Lanfen, too, was there, and was the first to notice the approaching boy and their leader. She gestured, making a noise of surprise, and Hayate and the others turned and received them.

The news of Akuha's demotion had traveled fast indeed, as they learned. The soldiers had only just arrived, ordered by Gyokuro within a minute of her exit from the chapel's chamber to stand guard until the ship's departure. Not one member of the crew was permitted to wander outside for any cause, even as some still pressed their curious faces against the windows of the gondola.

Hayate continued to ply a soldier for more specific answers, but, about the essentials everyone was now fully informed. They were not told exactly the circumstances that had led to the stripping of rank, but then, even Akuha's escort hadn't been told that, let alone anyone else.

In short order, there was nothing more to do but retire to the ship as instructed. Hayate volunteered to accompany his mistress to her chambers, and she did not object. As they walked through the lower corridors together, Tsukune could sense the man's burning desire to question her, to learn the whole story…But he refrained, as did any other now-captainless crewmember they passed, for her distress and anguish were palpable, and fear weighed their tongues.

On top of that, in the midst of his own attempts to calm himself and patch the wounds in his fortitude, Tsukune was suddenly left all alone. All crew except Hayate had gradually trickled away from their little train before they had even reached the elevator—including Lanfen, who remained to oversee preparations for their later takeoff (a job Tsukune knew Hayate might have handled, if not for more urgently pressing matters on his mind). And just like that, they were on the upper level, Akuha's room down the hall and to the right—into which she and Hayate vanished, without invitation, with barely an acknowledgement of his presence.

He stood there for a few moments, a touch offended, to his surprise, at the abandonment. He knew by now that Akuha had a tendency of shutting herself away when faced with a problem to which no solution seemed clear, but he would liked to have thought that by this point, they had been through enough together for his inclusion in her private sequester. Like Hayate.

Tsukune shuddered. _Not to mention, it leaves me alone, now of all times. _The lingering traces of Gyokuro still whispered about him in echoes. Her touch upon him. Her silken flesh. Her voice in his ear. Her inviting scent. Things which before had unwittingly charmed his attention, but now repulsed him by their very memory, swelling in the mechanical stillness of the ship. _That's another meeting with an ayashi leader gone horribly wrong,_ he rued.

What to do now? He tried the handle on Akuha's door. Locked_. _And in her current state, he didn't think it wise to insist upon entry. Outrage, it appeared, had quickly been quelled by the reality of what had transpired, and just now she had looked as a hollow shell. Besides, if she had wanted his presence, she would have invited him in…right?

He pondered this as he made for the only other logical place he could think of: Hayate's room, where he had been permitted to lodge previously. A few stray Fairy Talers passed him on the way, each one, without hesitation, offering him a sharp salute. Perplexing, yet Tsukune hardly noticed, only giving the gestures the most meager consideration.

His destination was on the same level, but as he arrived and reached for the door, he stopped, his mind feverishly occupied, and his feet suddenly turned, deciding to carry him elsewhere. Before he realized it, in his distraction he had ridden the elevator back down to the lower decks, and now stood in front of another door off a side passage.

"Wait, this place…Where did I go?" He rubbed his brow, as he slowly recognized the spot. Opening the door confirmed that it was the old storage room, which he had not glimpsed in quite some time. Flicking on the lights, it became clear that Akuha had kept everything exactly as he remembered. There were the two beds, the drawn curtain between them, the sheets tossed and coverlets sprawled carelessly from the first night of use. The dresser, thrown ajar. Had anyone even been here since?

He stood by the headrest of the bed he and Moka had shared, where her head had last lain; placing a hand on the pillow, tracing its surface, heart leaping in his throat as he momentarily mistook a trick of the light for a gleaming strand of Moka's moon kissed mane.

He lost track of how long he stood there. How long before he sank to the mattress, numb throughout his body, even his wounded limbs, throat tight and fit to burst. Fighting back his heart's anguish with reason, forcing contemplation to offset it, trying not to drown in remorse. Moka was still alive, after all. The only difference now was the uncertainty about his next move. Now that Akuha was seemingly expelled from Fairy Tale, where did that leave them? Amid all this, too, a specific question nagged most persistently.

At length, there was a knock. Tsukune bolted up, the impression of his face left in the pillow, and glanced at the nearby clock. "A whole hour. Did I fall asleep?"

"Did you?" came Hayate's voice as he opened the door. "So, this is where you went. We've been looking for you for a while. Why didn't you wait outside?"

Tsukune blinked. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't realize I was supposed to. It seemed like you guys wanted to be alone. You've been looking for me, you said? Has something happened?"

"No, nothing yet. You had best come with me, though." Tsukune obliged, grabbing his crutch, half eager to leave the room which was now beginning to congeal with aching memory.

As they walked, Hayate explained further. "I managed to get most of the story from Miss Akuha, so I won't burden you with unpleasant questions. I'm truly sorry. I know how much Moka means to both of you. To have something your heart desires just within reach, so very near, and then to have it snatched away…." Here he pressed the button in the elevator. "It is a heavy thing. Still, I can't say something like 'Never would I have imagined such deception from Gyokuro Shuzen'. Not to speak ill of our commander—although I suppose she no longer stands as such—but this impending war seems to be her entire _raison d'être, _and if she decided that someone else was more suited to take Moka through the process," and here his voice intimated vehement disagreement, "it doesn't surprise me that she would go to such lengths."

"Yeah. In fact, it sounded as if she had made up her mind about this a while ago. That Miyabi," Tsukune growled, half to himself. "He knew, when we spoke. He must have. He was probably laughing the whole time, listening to my confident boasting of rescuing Moka, when he and Gyokuro had no intention of letting that happen."

"As you might have guessed," the other man continued, ignoring the mention of Miyabi, "Miss Akuha has been taking this rather…not well. Perhaps I'm overstepping in telling you this, but I believe that even if it was for Moka's sake, directly defying orders and the chain of command isn't something she's well-equipped for. She's never had to handle such a situation. So, even while trying to configure her next course of action once clear of this island, it's not proving easy; not with her sister once again snatched so cruelly from her grasp."

"And you want me to go in there and talk to her again, I suppose?" He said this grumpily. Why should he be looked to for comfort? It wasn't like he didn't share an equal measure of pain in this matter.

"Actually, it was she who requested you."

He said this just outside the entrance to Akuha's room, and, with Tsukune offering no reply, ushered him inside.

The woman was pacing back and forth briskly, tenderly nursing with a pack of ice the arm which Gyokuro had snared in a crushing vice. Upon sighting her new arrivals, she demanded: "Hey, who told you to leave? Hayate, where was he?"

Tsukune apologized again, but she waved him off distractedly. He could see right away the familiar crinkle in her forehead, the purse of her lips, the wild flames in her narrowed eyes which now transfixed him in their beams. "Sit," she commanded. He did, gingerly taking a place on the bed, though Hayate remained by the door. She didn't seem to mind, focused now on Tsukune, though she kept silent.

Eventually he hesitantly broke the ice. "…Do you think we should go find Gyokuro, try to talk to her? Or if we can sneak past the men outside, we could search for where they're keeping Moka—"

"No point to that. You heard her. Moka was never here." Of course, how could he have forgotten? "She's still with that shit stain Miyabi and our traitorous sister."

He knew there would be hard feelings towards Kahlua after this, but even so, he could not find it within his own heart to hold her accountable, and he said as much. "You once told me what sort of…upbringing you had, and it sounds like Kahlua had a similar experience, so—"

She cut him off, her voice monotone. "A—A similar experience…"

Tsukune suddenly felt Hayate's gaze ghost along the back of his neck, and, puzzled, but with a notion of warning, proceeded cautiously. "I—I'm just saying, I don't know if she's mentally able to disobey orders, from a higher officer or her mother. I wouldn't be too hard on her, is all," he concluded softly.

"Oho, really?" she scoffed.

"I'm just telling you what I've noticed, is all."

"Well, you do seem to be quite up to date on all things Kahlua, don't you."

"I…I'm sorry? I don't follow."

"The engagement! Imagine my shock at learning we're about to have that man in the family, and there you were, practically bored by the announcement. How did you know about it?"

"Oh, that…." Why hadn't he told her of his encounter with Miyabi? Even now, he balked at the thought. Perhaps he had simply wanted to forget what the man had said about Omote, about Akuha being his enemy: concerns that he shared, but had been trying to ignore, to suppress deep within.

Ultimately, he opted for the truth, but related only that Miyabi had approached him, and told him he had been keeping an eye on them, not without a fair share of taunting. "As she said, Gyokuro was having us watched the whole time, I guess," he said sourly, then anxiously glancing at Akuha to see her reaction; as he expected, she was not pleased.

"You _spoke to _Miyabi? And you just decided to keep this piece of information to yourself?! I could have confronted him myself, dragged him out of whatever stink hole he was slithering in! He wouldn't have been able to hide the truth from me, and I could've made him squeal about everything!"

"S-sorry, I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't. Damn it, even if you don't trust me, I expected you to inform me about any crucial developments regarding my sister!"

Indignant, Tsukune shot back: "Hold on a second. What about you? You knew that Fairy Tale had gone ahead and started using Moka for…whatever that synchronization thing is that Gyokuro mentioned! Which means you at least suspected they were behind her disappearance, too. When were you planning to share that with me?"

"It was not your concern," she said stiffly.

He was getting angry. "Really? So I don't suppose what she was being put through had anything to do with my recent Shinso fevers, either?" Akuha had no answer for that. "Even if the two were unrelated, anything regarding Moka's well-being is my concern, just as much as it is yours."

It was then that Hayate decided to interject himself between them, attempting to cool rising passions. "Alright, now. Let's not fight amongst ourselves. You've both kept things from each other, so you might as well call it even." He gave them a moment before he spoke again, during which Tsukune took a deep breath. "Miss Akuha. What we were talking about before. Do you still intend to go with this course of action?"

She scoffed, blowing a hair out of her face. "Obviously. There is nothing more to consider."

Tsukune couldn't help but notice a fidget that overtook her body as she said this. "What exactly are you guys talking about?" he asked. "What are we considering?"

"The reason Miss Akuha had me fetch you," Hayate said. "She plans to go after Moka herself, to search for wherever Division Two may be keeping her."

The words had barely fled his lips than "I'm coming" had formed on Tsukune's.

Akuha had finally taken a seat, as if to still herself, and laced her fingers together. "Technically, I have no…official authority to keep you as my prisoner anymore," she said, her voice strained. "I really don't care what you decide to do, whether tag along while I search for Moka, or stay here with Gyokuro. Not like you can be much help, in your current condition. But I thought you ought to know, at least. Now you can't complain I don't tell you anything."

"I'm coming," he repeated. "Call me your prisoner or not, whatever the hell you want. I doubt authority had much to do with you taking me on board in the first place. But I won't sit around while she's out there. These injuries will heal fast enough."

Hayate flickered a smile and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "There. See? I told you we could count on him."

"Wait, 'we'?" Tsukune looked to the man in confusion. "You mean, you're coming too, Hayate?"

"This comes as unexpected news?"

"Well, yeah—I mean, no, I guess not, it's just…Aren't you still a member of Fairy Tale?"

Akuha provided her own answer. "Yes, but he is my subordinate, first and foremost. I'm not going to give him up any more than I will my ship."

"She is correct," the man said, inclining his head slightly. "You know how long I've been serving her, Tsukune. I will continue to do so to the end, whichever path she decides to walk."

Once again, Tsukune couldn't feel displeasure at this added company. As 'close' as he and Akuha had become through their various circumstances, it might not fare well for either if they were the only two people on the entire craft. Which raised another point, come to think of it.

"Just one question, though. How are you gonna pull this off? As soon as we're gone, it won't be long before Gyokuro expects her ship back. You're…You're not planning on returning it, are you? That's what you meant."

"Bingo. She intends to have my crew dump me off somewhere and fly back to port. She'll probably split them up and reassign them to the other squads. Well, she's in for a rude surprise."

"But, what about them? Your crew, I mean. I doubt they'd be willing to risk Fairy Tale's wrath just to help a human and a former officer find her sister, and without them, can this ship even function properly?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Tsukune," Hayate answered, "but many in our division, not just myself, are loyal to their captain above all else in Fairy Tale. Yes, even if she no longer officially holds that office. Think about it. Most of our time is spend on this vessel, going into battle together, far away from this island and Gyokuro Shuzen. Is it any wonder Miss Akuha commands the bulk of her men's loyalty? I suspect we don't have to overworry: many of them will follow her even now, to whatever end."

Akuha, in whom Tsukune expected to glimpse a flash of the old pride at this praise, merely looked distracted and troubled as before.

"Ok, that's comforting, I suppose," he went on, "but you said 'many'. What about those who are opposed to this plan?" He recalled a past conversation overheard among a few of the crew, expressing trepidation and dissatisfaction with their captain's behavior, during her initial mood over Moka's disappearance. "Or what if Gyokuro's goons out there tag along once we depart, to make sure you don't in fact try to pull some escape?"

She then looked at him with the most plain, simplistic expression possible, and said: "Oh, that's easy. Anyone who stands in my way, we kill them all."

This was not all together shocking, although it did take Tsukune a moment to digest. Indeed, at first consideration, he couldn't bring himself to launch a passionate protest; although, he did, a moment later, murmur out a weak "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I've expressed my own reservations about it," Hayate said, "but ultimately, we proceed according to my lady's plan."

So their discussion continued. At one point, Tsukune noticed an odd, prominent bulge beneath the fabric of Akuha's bed sheets. He called attention to it, and was only further mystified at the object she reached in and retrieved. Spherical in shape, a shade of silvery blue, divided in two by a narrow slit circumscribing the center; a ring of darkened lights was situated above this slit.

"Crap, that's right, I did put that there," she said, turning the curious artifact over in her palm.

"What is it?" asked Tsukune.

"An interesting little gadget, isn't it," Hayate quipped.

"Don't touch." Akuha's hand flashed out to slap away the top of Tsukune's. "I have no idea what it does, but it was made by an ayashi for ayashi. For all we know, direct contact with a human could trigger something."

Tsukune frowned. "Made by a…" Wait. No, surely it couldn't be. His throat constricted as realization dawned. "Akuha, tell me you didn't. Tell me that's not Gyokuro's delivery."

Even the normally reserved Hayate blanched at the suggestion. No doubt he was further horrified by Akuha's mischievous little smirk.

"Couldn't resist. What, should I have just handed over what she so desperately wanted? Leave myself with no leverage in case she pulled something? Which, I need not remind you, she did. I was planning to wait until Moka was back to hand over the real thing, but…Well, that didn't happen."

"Then what the hell did we hand over?"

"A fake, obviously. I'm not without my talents outside of combat. Gyokuro's got a very suitable facsimile, if I do say so myself."

"It can't fool her forever, though," Tsukune insisted. "You don't think the second she finds out you deceived her she'll—"

"What? Hm? She'll do what? What more can she possibly take from me now?"

"If I may ask," Hayate interjected, "how did you know the device's appearance, in order to replicate it? The case was locked and we did not possess the code."

"Oh but we did. It was spelled out clear as day on the note we handed to the old witch."

"…That would be the note Gyokuro instructed us not to read. Of course." Tsukune sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I guess those orders didn't carry that much weight with you."

"I didn't see the harm in peeking," she said in mock innocence. "Good thing I did, too. It was kind of surprising, how careless Gyokuro was with that information…But maybe she figured that even if I did know, there wasn't actually any harm I could do. Heh. How wrong she was there."

"Maybe not," said Tsukune. "We may have it, but we still don't know what it's for, or how to use it. Right now, we _can't _do anything, other than, I don't know, annoy her when she discovers the truth. I mean, come on, isn't this just the equivalent of pranking her, like we're little kids?"

Placing the metallic orb down on the table, any little trace of mirth fled from Akuha's face. Her tone grew serious, and she said: "Well, excuse me, for not currently being able to strike at her in a more substantial way. Yes, it's pathetic, that this is the best I can do. Is that what you want to hear? Let me have what victories are left to me, for fuck's sake."

Tsukune had no words to meet her frustrated dare; in fact he wasn't sure she expected any.

The hours waned further. Despite his brief shuteye earlier, he found himself unable to maintain constant attention to what Akuha was saying as the topic changed, more and more only catching bits and strands of sentences, until "…we leave at dawn" perked his ear. There was a concern of equal weight that could not go ignored.

After all, dawn was only a few hours from now, which left precious little time to find where his friends from the Newspaper Club were being held and spring them free.

"You want to what?" was Akuha's opinion on that. "Don't be an idiot. Any time we spend searching the prison complex for their cells is time we should be devoting to Moka. Besides, it's a labyrinth down there. And you don't know their location."

Of course, Tsukune wanted to find Moka as well. "But I'm not going to leave them here," he protested. "Not after I saw what Gyokuro had in store for them. I said it before, that I won't leave them to that fate. Especially with what we're planning! Once Gyokuro catches wind of it, which she obviously will before long, what do you think will happen to them? They'll be dead in a minute, because of my actions."

"Why would she kill them?" Akuha countered. "As long as you're out there with me, you represent a threat to her. Using your classmates as hostages will ensure sure you stay in line, is how she'll see it. But it would be foolish for her to kill them and lose her bargaining chips."

"I'm not going to take that risk! Look, she gave us until tomorrow evening to leave, right? We can use that time to locate Yukari and the others and then quickly steal away before anyone's the wiser."

"And I'm not going to take _that_ risk. We have the freedom now, and the means, to go after Moka. If either of us were to be discovered trying to free prisoners—especially with my arm like this"—she scowled and pressed the ice harder against her limb—"we'd lose even that. No, it puts too much in jeopardy. I can't allow any sort of rescue mission."

"That's not good enough!" The others were startled as Tsukune's hand slammed against the bedpost; he winced at the recoil the impact sent rippling through his marred shoulder. "What, you think I'm going to assume anything about Gyokuro's behavior after all this?"

Akuha's voice began to rise again to match his. "I don't care what you assume. My decision is made!"

"And I don't give a damn about your decision! We're not leaving without them!"

"Yes, we are. Ugh, why do you have to be such a stubborn ass?! Why can't you see how an attempt like this could make any hope of achieving our goal go up in flames, before it's even begun?"

They were both shouting now, and already Tsukune was through with patience. "Well, you know, maybe if you hadn't barged in an attacked Gyokuro like a rabid animal, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place! Ever think about that? Even if we do escape, we have no clue where to look for Moka, and now she may be gone for good!"

For this, she had no answer, and Tsukune was suddenly very aware of the potent hush that settled over the room. The full weight of his words only now caught pace with him, and he felt a warm embarrassment in his cheeks.

Before he could say anything more, she turned to her attendant and muttered: "Hayate, give us a minute."

"O-of course," he said, nodding, eyes flickering between the two, not truly wanting to depart and hoping they would not tear each other to shreds in his absence. "I'll see to it that we're prepared to launch at your word. Gyokuro's men will also need to be dealt with….Excuse me." And with that, he ducked out.

They did not speak to each other for a moment more, merely letting the air settle as they both tended to wounded appendages. Tsukune was the first to break the stillness, contrite and getting straight to it. "I know. If you hadn't come back when you did, Gyokuro and I probably would've….Well, I'm sorry for what I said. I'm grateful you stopped it from happening, only…." And here he paused, chewing his lip, heart nervous with the question. "Only, why _did _you?"

In truth, in ordering Hayate away, Akuha had been preparing to unleash a storm of verbal fury upon the boy over his comment. She did not expect to have to provide such an account. Even now, when she spoke, her voice trembled in tempered rage mingled with soft confusion. "W-why did I…what?"

"You know very well what. I'm just kinda…baffled. What did it matter to you if I slept with Gyokuro? I seem to recall you once telling me to 'go for it.' Again, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful you prevented it, but I don't understand why. Why you put everything that you have on the line, even Moka's safety, just for…for…."

As he went on, a notion was taking shape concurrently in his skull, and he realized he couldn't find the proper words to proceed.

Perhaps Akuha sensed the path he was treading, and in the recognition her eyes bugged out of her head. "You're overthinking it! Like I said before, it would've been wrong to indulge in such things a house of Alucard, especially an ayashi and a human—that would be sacrilege."

"You're one to talk. Anyway, Gyokuro didn't believe that was the reason, and quite frankly, neither do I."

"Believe it or don't, I don't care. What is with this interrogation, anyway? Am I on trial? I thought I was doing something nice, but apparently I have to have an ulterior motive. Who cares what the reason is? It's done! It was a moment of carelessness. I wasn't thinking. I don't care what she threatened you with, she could not simply have her way, taking yet again things that she has no right to!"

Amidst her rambling his final question had fully formed, preposterous though it seemed. But what would it mean? His mind dashed back, racing through his recent past, examining with piercing intent every event, overturning every stone. Searching for any whisper or hint that might now provide some much needed clarity. It would fly in the face of everything he thought he knew about the young woman, if true. She _despised _his kind. He was her prisoner, her enemy. She had only ever had eyes for Moka.

On her pause for breath he asked in forced, teasing jest: "You like me, don't you."

A long pause, before at last she grumbled: "Don't be a fucking idiot," though her cheeks were hot and her eyes diverted to the floor.

"That's not an answer—_ah!"_

Further speculation was abruptly stifled by a vicious shout that tore from Tsukune's throat, followed by heavy, panting gasps for air. The complete humiliation that further whitened Akuha's already pale cheeks was instantly wiped clean, and she jumped as the boy doubled over, attempted to stand, and crumpled as his legs gave way, one hand clutching the table, the other strangling the collar of his shirt.

In a moment, he half noticed her presence over him. Both knew, by now, what this portended. "Now?" she gasped. "Of all times, now?"

Tsukune could offer no response, flares and explosions already igniting his veins into a wild conflagration. He had been due for another episode of Shinso fever, and had expected it, but not this soon. His head pounded with the blows of a hammer, as if splitting flesh and bone, until all else was smothered by the maelstrom he had grown all too familiar with.

When next he opened his eyes during a momentary lull, the eye of the storm, he was no longer on the floor; he had been shifted over to the bed. Through the dim, filmy haze he could make out Akuha looming over his side. With this temporary reprieve, he gathered enough presence of mind for a quick utterance: "T-They're using Moka again—_nng!—_Are you still going to leave me in the dark about what her purpose is? Even now?" That was all he could manage before more titanic waves arced and peaked and crashed down in violent flood once more, sweeping him back into his tempest.

Shedding light on a mystery, however, was not Akuha's current concern. There was no time to waste. Awkward situation or not, she had to absolve him of the scorching flames. She had learned not to wait until the attack subsided to begin siphoning the youki-infested blood. She straddled his chest, a motion too much repeated to be embarrassing, undoing the top button on his shirt. The exposed flesh burned black, the jagged markings of the Shinso carving out a path along his prone body. She ghosted the lines with her fingertips, her own breath coming rapidly to match her heartbeats.

"Hurry," he rasped, anxious for the familiar puncture to provide respite. It was not long in coming, and he inhaled sharply as the white fangs made anchor in the base of his neck, just above the clavicle. Her lips wetted the searing skin, and while he continued to convulse and buck beneath her, she pressed against his shoulder and pinned him down firmly. The taste rushed over her tongue, a burst of flavorful ecstasy: human blood mingled with the taste of Shinso, dark and sweet in its course down her throat, inflaming her own passions. All troubles were momentarily quelled as she indulged in this delight, attacking her meal with an unprecedented voracity, driving her imagination wild with purely physical sensations.

Tsukune's concern flashed briefly to Moka, uttering a silent wish for her safety during this ordeal, before the sheer rapture overwhelmed all else. Every drop of toxic youki was funneled to that one tingling spot, rushing up from his fingertips, toes, and chest, leaving behind weary limbs and bones in its wake.

So greedily did Akuha sip, it seemed the pain was over barely after it had begun. Breath began to return steadily, the last echoes of the storm broiling in his chest, the spinning and dancing lights fading from his vision as his focus gradually gained strength. He blinked, flexed his toes, his fingers—A subdued yelp followed this, as did a dulcet, half-repressed laugh upon repeating the action. His hands had fallen on something soft, and pliable, and he continued to blink the haze away in order to determine its nature.

"Quit it!" came the voice, and very shortly, he could see Akuha above him, sitting up straight on his lap, biting her lip and swatting at his hands, which had found themselves on her waist. He mumbled a quick apology and let go. "There," she said, wiping her lips, now flushed a vibrant stain of red. "Good as new. Hey, hey! You awake? It's over." Upon seeing that he was still conscious, she let free a bitter laugh. "Of course that's our luck. Everything I've worked for goes to hell, and it just _has _to be then that they start her on another cycle. Rubbing it in my face."

Her tone grew darker and angrier as she spoke. Shifting abruptly on her seat, the motion elicited a sharp hiss from the boy. She frowned, and did it again. Poking against the back of her pants she felt a generous rise; she tilted her neck to glimpse the pitched tent, fighting to contain the eager erection straining to burst free. "As usual."

Chewing his underlip to suppress the sudden wave of want coursing through his body, Tsukune had half a mind to remove Akuha, and make that the end of it. But he did not. No, this time he lay still, watching, waiting, all at once frightfully unsure of his own desires and intentions. Each successive fever left his mind in a thick fog, and this was no different. Her gaze clouded over as she turned to face him, a ferocity billowing deep in those fiery lamps that did nothing to soothe the lust the Shinso blood had stirred in his lower belly.

Once again, Akuha's hand found its way to his shoulder, this time gliding along and slipping inside his shirt, thumb grazing against a familiar scar along his pectoral, just before pressing her damp palm squarely on solid muscle. A fang nicked her painted lip, and her glistening eyes blazed the color of her cheeks. Her voice came low, a harsh whisper wavering with sorely tested control. "Everything…Gyokuro has robbed me of everything…Within a single night, she just snaps her fingers, and dares….My position, my authority…Moka. She even thought she could have…No, I won't let her. Like hell she's going to take it all away!"

Like a woman possessed, she tore his shirt apart at the middle and put her fangs back to work on his chest, nipping and pricking until little dots of red freckled Tsukune's flesh.

No pain for him, either; her bites only invigorated him, each new mark feeding a new storm, each aggressive press of her mouth sweeping away any residual ache from his wounds. He tensed, air seizing in his throat, as she slid aside, reached back and slipped a hand inside his pants, deftly flicking them open before clutching his cock in her strong grip, her cool, silken palm an intense contrast to the heated flesh.

"Wait," he mumbled, anxiety's call echoing even as it was dragged away. "Are you sure?"

"Too much talking," she growled, placing her other hand over his mouth, one finger dipping just inside, brushing against his tongue. He moaned into the delicate gag as she went to work, her fist bobbing up and down along his shaft, thumb pushing against the silken head.

She needed this, he could tell. As did he. A realization that startled him. In the end, though, it wasn't just Akuha: Fairy Tale had now tried to take everything from him, too. Friends, home, control of his own body, love; and with the clock on a reunion with Moka reset to the very start, all his strength and spirit had evaporated, leaking forth as clearly as the blood Akuha had drawn. In a twisted way, his original captor was now the sole source of comfort left to him—if indeed it could be called that—and in the heat of the desperate moment he fully intended to submerge himself in the Lethean waters.

And so, he offered no further protests, merely giving the digit in his mouth an equally aggressive bite. A shout tore from the vampire as she withdrew, staring incredulously at the appendage before growling and smacking Tsukune across the face. An action followed by prompt descent of her lips to entrap his with a feral hunger. He could taste copper on her tongue as it forced entry into his mouth, and as a fang caught on his lip, more joined the mix. Breaths quickened, her hand catching on his sweat-slicked throat, his plunging down to return to her waist, clutching the white fabric of her undershirt that now stood as obstacle; and both of their cravings swelled, feeding off each other.

Not since the first night had Tsukune's passions swerved so far south, but no thoughts or sense of normalcy could stop them now. He devoured her lips with matching vigor, bare hips beginning to convulse with shallow thrusts up into her grip. A brief break in the kiss, and her shirt was gone, leaving snow-white flesh on full display. Lips crashed together again, his fingers returning to her sides, exploring to her smooth back even as she dragged her nails down his neck, over his clavicle, all the way to his stomach.

It wasn't long before their pants had joined the growing pile on the floor. By now Akuha's manual ministrations had Tsukune already seething for release. But she was far from finished. Mounting him once more, she slipped her underwear aside, plunging down until he was fully embedded in her hungry gash. No finesse here. They slammed together, grinding against each other, Tsukune's cock stabbing out wet squelches with each stroke. Any doubts had fled from them, replaced only with bestial urge, the sweltering heat of primal need that broiled the air around them.

Choked gasps and muttered "fucks" flew past Akuha's lips. Her spine arched, her head tossed back, already hazy vision obscured by night-black strands that matted to her feverish brow. She had been long absent this sensation, and now, for all her vehement denial, she counted herself fool for waiting; the only shadow cast over the event being the circumstances that had led to this coupling. Possessive hands anchored on his chest, clenching rippling muscle, wiping the light sheen forming between his pecs, tracing the scarred ridges cut into the skin, a couple of which she had put there herself. Violent markings. _Her _markings. The thought gave her an added thrill. All her desire for the human was crashing like floodwaters through the dam forth after ages of abstinence, and her sopping passage clamped violently around the invading cock. No finesse here. Just bucking hips, tightening coils, mingled juices, and hitched breaths elicited by the sheer force displayed. Neither held back, even Akuha, for all her inhuman strength, and Tsukune did not complain. No longer purely human himself, he absorbed her body's blows with voracious appetite, muscles drawn tight and firm – A sculpted hybrid.

With a newly inflamed strength, he sat up with Akuha. Though the poisonous fever had vanished, the vampiric blood remained, and now worked its influence on the boy's cravings, both the normal and the less so: on pure instinct, he lunged forward, latching his teeth onto the pale flesh of her shoulder. She gasped under the bite, although, his canines were yet mortal, and did not protrude nearly enough to pierce the skin, despite his apparent intention. An intention which shocked her, even as her pussy was pounded and stretched until most rational thought had been fucked away. But the shock quickly subsided, feeding further her rabid excitement.

"So, you want blood, do you?" she crooned breathily. "Very well, let me help." Yanking him away by the hair, she held her arm out before her and sank her teeth in the skin, drawing forth tiny twin pools of crimson, leaking and sliding down her arm. Immediately Tsukune suctioned his mouth to the wound, eyes shut tight, nostrils flared, throat smoothly gulping down each drop. Akuha couldn't restrain a laugh, interrupted by more ragged gasps elicited by his pillaging cock. Down flew her head, open, panting lips sliding across his neck and firm shoulder. Her guard down, her focus enraptured, she was unprepared to find herself flipped rudely on her back a moment later, pinned to the hot, damp sheets, Tsukune's hips a frantic blur as he sated his cresting passions in her lithe body. Every thrust buried him deeper, deeper still, their pelvises colliding with wet, smutty slaps; the air around them choking with the growing scent of their union, the heady musk of their sexes.

For him, animal instinct had taken full control. A trance initiated by the earlier fever and nourished by raw emotion until he could no longer see anything but the girl beneath him: his captor, his enemy, whose ankles now locked around his back and drew him further into her cunt. His mouth, still questing, found one of her breasts, gnawing the pale flesh, lips sealing around a nipple, suckling away, sending shivers rippling to her center, stealing her breath from parted pink lips.

He was close, he could feel it. The pressure in his belly surged, the knot winding tighter, his release churning in his tensing sack. Nails raked down his front: thin, precise fingers clawing at his throat and nipples. Hands used so often for killing, honed to perfection in their craft, working now to enhance his coming euphoria. Oh, so close, and he told her.

"W-wait," her hurried tone came back, "I'm almost th-ther-_aahhh!" _Her pitch crescendoed on the last word, and she came undone. Curving into an arch, breasts thrust into the sky, legs flung wide, ankles shaking in perfect rhythm with her hips; she spasmed and gushed around him, and in her ecstatic grip she tugged him to his own finish.

"Do it out-outside! No risking a-anything."

Her warning barely broke through what traces of awareness he had left, but it was enough. Out he slipped, shaft painted with her essence, and just in time. With hardly a touch or a stroke he erupted, firing off round after round indiscriminately. Too intense—The sensation was too intense. Overpowering. He could feel his eyes rolling back, his pulse pounding, blood boiling with its supernatural potency—

His world went dark; he collapsed against her, and drifted off.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was a striking clatter that woke him; at least, he thought it was. Opening his eyes to equal darkness as he that had just known, he glanced around fruitlessly for its source, before coming to consider it part of the abrupt conclusion of his dream. A dream, which, already, was distancing itself from recollection. What was it, again? Moka had been there, he thought. Akuha, too. But beyond that…nothing.

Instead, he tried to let himself waken. There was no time for sleep now. In the process of clearing the haze, the immediate past did rush back to him. _That's right. _Calmed though he was, the blaze of blood and lust had joined he and Akuha together again, and he…With a blush, he realized he was in the same bed. Naked, apparently, if the chill on his flesh was any sign. He shifted, and rubbed against a distinct patch of damp on the mattress. That needed no time to wonder at, and his blush grew deeper.

His eyes were adjusting, and he could see the shadowed outlines of the room's furnishings. Where were his clothes, again? Probably on the floor, if the flashes of wild memory were accurate. He groaned: he didn't feel like moving, despite his self-admonishments. Who knew how long he had been out this time? And with their window of escape so near. He couldn't spot the clock from here; why had Akuha allowed him to sleep? Was she planning to wake him in time for their departure?

For that matter, the most pressing question now occurred to him: where was she? He had no company in the bed. _N-not that I expected her to stay, _he noted. Even so, her absence did not raise alarm. He and Moka had woken last time, alone, as well. Whatever it was they had just engaged in, whatever it ultimately meant, Akuha was not one to linger.

_Now, c'mon, move. Get UP!_

His attempts at self-motivation were failing, when his ears caught a subdued sound. A click. He paused, unsure of the noise. A moment later, his breathing silent in the dark—There it was again.

It came from the door. He looked over; the thin band of light from the hall outlined the frame. And it was widening. Ever so slightly, as if someone was hesitant to enter.

"Hello? Who's there?" he called out, though it came as a whisper.

His voice proved the trigger for what followed. Light leapt in as the door was flung wide, blinding the boy. In slipped a shadow. The mad rush of feet over the carpet. A whistle in the air. And suddenly Tsukune found himself under the edge of cruel, cold steel. He hadn't a moment to react, nor terror time to register; time seemed to halt as the shadow perched over his nude form, sword pressing deeper against his throat, the muscles in the arm gripping the blade tensing in preparation to slice. Still reeling from the brilliance dazzling his eyes, Tsukune could barely manage squinting, nor make out any features on the assailant. He was utterly frozen, breath stopped, mind blank.

In reality, it was just a second later when a muffled, but ghastly scream ripped from the figure's throat, before being cut abruptly short. He—for indeed it was a man's scream—lurched back, toppling down to the floor with a surprisingly delicate thump. Now the room's light was flicked on, and once Tsukune had adjusted to this added radiance, he yanked the sheets up over his body.

There, between two crewmembers, armed and leveling their weapons at the floor, Akuha stood, looming over the crumpled pile of black robes like a terrible demon; a great shadow seemed to seethe from her petite frame until it darkened all around her. Her arm hung outstretched, an odd posture until Tsukune noticed his would-be killer was missing his head, twitching in his death throes at the silent cut of the Jigen-tou.

"Looks like he was alone," she was saying to her men. "Alright, let's get going back to the hangar to secure the other two and make another sweep of levels one and two. If there are any more, we have to ensure they don't go after any critical systems." As she spoke, the floor gave a violent heave, rocking them off balance and almost dislodging Tsukune from his modesty. Akuha didn't seem fazed, however; steadying herself on the dresser, she glowered at her soldiers. "Go, now! I'll be down there in a second. Oh, and take this one. My room doesn't need a headless corpse as new decoration."

They stammered their obedience, seizing hold of the felled attacker, saluted, and hustled from the room.

"Get dressed," were the next words out of her mouth. She strode across the room, hunting for Tsukune's discarded clothes and flinging them to him haphazardly. "You need to be ready in case we're hit again. Can you walk? Gah, where's your damn crutch? Oh, right there."

"W-wait a minute. Stop. STOP!" His protests were stymied by the torn shirt tossed over his head. Tearing it off, he sputtered: "Where have you been? Who was that guy? What the hell is going on this time?"

"It was Gyokuro."

"It was—what? What was Gyokuro?"

"Everything, as it turns out." She said it without pause, almost with dull acceptance. "Those other two attackers I mentioned? We apprehended them, and they spilled their guts to us before, well, spilling the rest. They were her goons, the three of them, and any others who might have snuck aboard. If there are any. On that our informants were silent."

"You're saying she sent them to kill us?"

"I suppose after her fucking dragons failed to do the job, she felt more direct steps were needed. If you can call sending her assassins to stick us in the dead of night direct. It's fortunate I was up. He was a tengu, skilled in the killing arts. No ordinary ayashi."

Tsukune was beginning to feel somewhat dazed. "Her dragons…What? Did one of them tell you that? How could she be responsible for that?"

"Enemy Zero. I told you how she could reverse its pull. As vast as its range is for detection, so it is when she exerts her own youki. Considering how close we were to the island at the time, it's no wonder she was able to reach us. Its effects vary, as I told you, but those simple Graoullians were perfect for collaring. All she needed was a few pets to try and bring us down—Hey, don't just sit there, hurry up!"

He realized he was still naked, and made to remedy that. "She failed, though," he mumbled as he slipped on his shirt.

"Right. Which means she was probably plotting this from the moment we arrived. Can you believe it? Feeding us, humiliating me, all while thinking up the best way to stab me in the back."

"But, why would she do that? Why would she want you dead? It can't just be because you attacked her, since you say the dragons were her doing too. I just don't get it. She always spoke of you as her own daughter."

"And you believe Gyokuro would never kill her daughters?" she asked coldly.

By this time, Tsukune had dressed and followed Akuha out of the room, her stride slightly tempered as he tried to keep pace. "That said, I don't know what her damn reason was for this. But it doesn't matter now. Every moment we delay here keeps us in danger. We're taking off and putting this place to our rudder; then we can determine the next move."

A few steps more, and Akuha noticed that Tsukune had lagged behind. In fact, he had utterly stopped, and was staring ahead, alarm shining in his eyes. "Taking off? Wait, we're not in the air yet, are we? That heave from before—we're still on the island, right?!"

"Huh? No, I ordered them to depart as soon as we extracted the information. Fortunately all preparations had already been made. Cleaning up the rest of the guards on the dock was no hassle. Why, what's your problem?"

"I'll tell you my problem. My friends are still down there!"

"That again? Didn't we have this discussion before? Remember what I said? _It. Is. A. Labyrinth. _You don't even have any idea where they're being kept. We're not turning back, especially now that we've been seen fleeing, which Gyokuro will surely learn about if she hasn't already."

She had hardly finished explaining than Tsukune whisked past her, with surprising speed for his condition. "I don't care about that," he snarled, "I can't leave them behind!" He was zooming forward on his crutch now, fast as he could go, only one concern firmly stamped upon intention. It had not been so long since they left the ground, if the initial rumbling was any indication. He would race to the hangar, and try to force the airship back around to the docks. Or, if not, surely they were still close enough that he could make the leap—To hell with his injury!

By the time he reached the destination, however, Akuha still shouting behind him, it was clear that that ship had quite literally sailed. While the island still loomed in view from the rear panes, it was shrinking by the minute into the distance a few hundred yards away. Already it would have been impossible even for Akuha to open the hangar and cross the gap, let alone a hobbled human.

Another wound added to the mix, now. It had happened so fast. Mizore, Yukari, all of them, he had abandoned them. "She's going to kill them," he intoned, certain if not for his support he would have sunk to his knees. "Gyokuro has no reason to keep them alive, now that we've evaded her assassins and fled from her clutches."

"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing has changed." Akuha's voice echoed faintly, as if she were further than the two steps away where she stood. "You're still alive, as am I, which means you're still a threat to her. Well, maybe not a threat, but you can be a thorn in the side when you put your mind to it, a thing I'm certainly aware of. She won't kill them, I'm positive." She turned to the helmsman at the wheel to give him his orders. "Take us down to the clouds, they can cover our escape if we're followed. Speed, eighty-two knots, hard starboard tack."

"Aye, ma'am," he complied, and she patted his shoulder.

Her attempts at assurance, however, had the opposite effect on Tsukune; something snapped within him, and, bolting up, he whirled to face her and slammed his fist against one of the panels on the walls, bashing several buttons and switches at once. The screen flashed and changed its display, upon which Akuha, showing remarkable serenity, merely fiddled with the interface and set the screen back to its original state. This action, in all its simplicity, only drove Tsukune on more, and, possessed by rage, he grappled with the lapel of her coat, pulling her within an inch of his penetrating glare; she did not flinch, but met his eyes point blank. Nor did he falter at the grim clicking of bolts being slid back as the guards around them who were not occupied with operating the craft—and even these had stopped to stare—sped behind Tsukune and took aim at his back.

He had not forgotten they were not alone, he simply hadn't cared. Orders of "Step away from the captain, sir!" assailed his ears, yet he felt no fear. A touch of surprise, perhaps _('Sir?' What's that about?) _but no fear. All the same, his spike of fury was fast eroding, leaving him deflated in the relative silence that waited upon his next movement.

"Stand down," Akuha commanded placidly. The men glanced amongst themselves nervously, then, receiving a further nod from her, broke formation and moved away.

Gingerly, she removed Tsukune's rigid grip. In truth, she thought, he looked pathetic. Beaten down, defeated, robbed of the buoyant light he always seemed to possess. Unfamiliar territory awaited her as she tried to assuage his rabid guilt. "Listen to me. You a choice before you. An impossible choice, if I know you at all. Your friends, or Moka. One or the other. We could not remain to retrieve the prisoners and hope to make a clean getaway and hunt for Moka. Now, I don't know if there's any part of you, however buried or muted, that recognizes this truth, but I need you to find it. Ultimately, I made the decision, and you didn't have to. Let that balm your guilt, if nothing else will. What's done is done, and we need to focus on the task ahead. And, if we do find ourselves back here in the future, when we're better equipped and Moka is at my side, if you wish to steal into the underground facility, and take any risks you might incur in tracking them down…I won't stop you."

The ship roared and rumbled, angling against the wind and turning back towards the island for a brief moment to begin its descent. As of yet their escape appeared unhindered, and it was the crew's intention to vanish before the dawn had fully broken. Motes of light simmered at horizon's edge, bands of saffron and violet heralding the newly-waking sun, though vast blankets of cloud below assured that only up here would the day bloom in full.

But Tsukune and Akuha barely noticed, the former gaping at the latter in desperate confusion. Grapple as he might, he could find no explanation for this. "How…? How are you keeping so calm about this? _You? _Moka's been snatched from you again, you've lost your position, everything you have, and been expelled from Fairy Tale by a mother who…well, look at where we are now! You're not—You shouldn't be this…_together. _How do you do it? You were just freaking out earlier."

"Tch, I had a momentary lapse in composure, that's all. But now, I know who my enemy is. I know the situation. I know who to kill. I like when things are nice and simple like that, don't you?"

She said it so casually, so plainly….This was not the same person slinking and sulking in her chambers after her sister's disappearance. This was more like the Akuha he had known, and feared. The stalwart, fearless warrior whose infamy had reached even his ears; who had outwitted him and Moka back in Yomotsu, had taken the Miao manor by storm. For the first time, truly, he found himself glad—eager, even—to ally with this erstwhile foe. Her shining confidence in the face of this crisis was refreshing. Inspiring.

Or it would be…if he wasn't strangled by chains stronger than any he had known under her watch. There was to be no consolation about Kurumu and the others, not from Akuha, not from himself. He had escaped, safe and intact, and left them behind, to the whims of an enemy who would now surely want revenge for his actions. No matter what Akuha said, this fact was unchangeable. What would he tell Ms. Ageha, or Tsurara? _If only I'd gone after them during the night, instead of…._No. No time for those thoughts. Blame could not be assigned to her, who now, in his silence, gave a quick nod and left to focus on the task at hand. Whether or not it should be assigned to him mattered little, for he heaped it heavy upon his shoulders anyway.

Closer and closer they drew to the cloud layer, until it seeped around the hull and enveloped them, their ship a drop in the vast ocean of grays and blues. Colors hued darker in time with their descent—storm clouds, these were, holding promise of rain for whatever land lay below. Although it was morning, vision from the gondola was limited to ashy wisps and mists, the pilot relying only on a westward heading to navigate.

"And for the record"—Akuha's voice suddenly in the boy's ear as she sidled up again beside him—"She's not my mother. Not before, and certainly not now that she's pulled this stunt."

"R-right, sorry. I guess she's not doing your relationship any favors."

A pause. Side by side at the window, they stared together into impenetrable obscurity, until at last she let out a huff and said, grimly: "Be that as it may, it seems one by one, my relations can't help but betray me." Her face was hidden behind curtains of black, and she did not turn an inch.

"You're talking about Kahlua again, aren't you?"

"So what if I am? I already know your opinion on this, so spare me. It doesn't change what she's done. Now, Gyokuro. Kokoa, too.

"Kokoa? When did she ever betray you?"

"Isn't it obvious? She decided to turn from the family and fight alongside you and your friends."

"But, so did Moka, and we've been squaring off with Fairy Tale long before Kokoa even came to Youkai Academy."

"Moka's upbringing was not solely with the Shuzen family. All her moving around left her naïve and unprepared to guard against—"

Here she stopped, but Tsukune had had enough dialogues with her to know where this was going. "Guard against what? Me?"

"Hmph. All of you. Getting in her head and corrupting her."

"That still the story you're telling yourself?" On this point, she chose to remain silent, and he sighed and sagged onto his crutch. "Some things will never change, I guess."

Regardless of his frustration, he was still genuinely surprised. To think back on it now, Akuha had never talked about her youngest sister in all the time he had been here; never even mentioned her, from what he could recall. At first, he had been curious what their relationship was. With Kahlua, he observed a respectful harmony of sorts. With Moka, well, that relationship was another story. But, the third sister?

_Kokoa Shuzen. _He remembered the first time he had met her. As bizarre an encounter as any he'd had with ayashi at school, and definitely reminiscent of his and Moka's introduction. Where might Kokoa be now? The last he'd seen her…Wow, before their departure for China and the Wong Family manor. Had it really be that long? Assuming nothing had disrupted the situation on their end, Kokoa was likely still to be….

Wait. Yes, that was it! How could he have forgotten?

His eyes lit up at the idea, his spirit briefly buoyed by a rising flame of hope. Even with this much time having passed, Kokoa might very well still be with Ruby, and surely they had rejoined Mikogami at the school….Perhaps Touhou Fuhai had made his way there as well! Did he dare wish? If Akuha would fly them to Youkai Academy, they could reconvene, amass their strength, have the resources to go after both Moka and his imprisoned friends at once. His original plan had been to find Touhou Fuhai anyway, so why not continue along that path?

Bubbling with enthusiasm, he related his thoughts to her.

"Are you kidding?" she scoffed dryly. "Sure, it's a sound idea, in theory, and might help Moka's retrieval go more smoothly, but what makes you think I'd set foot in a place where I'd be set upon by two of the three dark lords at the same time? I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm not quite strong enough to defend myself and my crew from that level of combined power. Or, could that be exactly what you were hoping for? Hm, I wonder…."

Tsukune was hot in denial. "Not even close. Are _you _kidding? I'm in this with you a hundred percent."

No answer as she discussed the matter internally. Then, aloud: "Well, assuming you're being straight with me, I'll take it under consideration. In the meantime, we're not changing course. I want at least a day's distance between us and Gyokuro, ideally more. So get comfortable, Tsukune; we're skybound for a while longer."

He hummed his assent, no less anxious, but finding, at least, the very bottom rung of hope to cling to. Who knew what condition he would find Kurumu and the others in when he returned as liberator? He could sense it now: he would be a mass of harrowed nerves for the duration of the flight.

The hours muddled by, miring the boy in a thick morass of anticipation and impatience. Outside, the sky remained invisible, peeking every so often from behind the endless cloud layers before mischievously scurrying off to hide again. Akuha had moved along to the adjacent navigation room, leaving Tsukune alone at the aft of the gondola, fidgeting and shuffling and trying to maintain some semblance of emotional equilibrium. Eventually, she departed the hangar for another sweep of the ship.

Ugh, this wait was torturous! Nerves were growing restless, buzzing. Nothing to see out there but the same old haze. He had to move about, in the meantime. Where to, then? To join Akuha? No, she was busy, and was eventually to return anyway.

Hayate? But he did not know where the man was. Akuha had mentioned something about a pressure relief valve in an engine car, but Tsukune had never been to that part of the ship. Well, he supposed he could at least look. Exploration could provide a welcome distraction, and if Hayate wasn't too preoccupied, perhaps they could chat for a while. Anything to take his mind off things.

His feet were in aching motion before he had even finished the thought. It would be a long hike, especially with his injuries, but he could manage.

The crew currently on duty hardly glanced his way as he walked by. As they had thus far been successful in their escape, the furious urgency of earlier had dissipated, but they couldn't relax just yet. Casual conversation passed among them, hushed murmurs and orders and laughs. Several met his eye and nodded respectfully, reminding him of the salutes he had received earlier. The peculiarity of the gestures now struck him. Why were they affording him such politeness? Addressing him as _sir _for that matter?

A shout rang from Navigation—then an earsplitting boom—

And Tsukune lost his footing, stumbling and crashing into the helmsman before he could inhale, slamming them both into the wheel where they crumpled atop each other.

The pain was not so great as he might have expected, though he couldn't say the same for the man who had cushioned his fall, taking a crutch to the throat in the process. He was out cold. Another pushed Tsukune aside to take his place. Everyone was shouting, those who had kept their balance now running about. Rising from his heap, Tsukune craned his neck to see most of them heading towards the windows where he had been before. Akuha only now returned, and, with a grim purpose clouding her usual pallor, dashed back to the radars and altimeters and radios of Navigation.

Tsukune joined her with all the grimacing haste he could muster, just as another blast echoed somewhere above. Stealing a glance over the heads of those gathered at the windows, he still saw nothing but clouds. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

Akuha shot an impatient glare at her subordinates gathered around. "That's what I'm hoping to find out. Well?"

One officer, an older man with a doughy face and sweaty, distracted hands, gestured at a round screen, the bottom of which displayed several red dots flickering into view. "Three of them, looks like!" he shouted in a voice that was unnecessarily loud, even for the occasion. He pointed back out the rear window, where people still huddled. "The clouds are blocking 'em, whatever they are."

"Damage report?"

Another answered, running off something about frames and shear wires, most of which was foreign to Tsukune and of little interest.

"More dragons, you think, ma'am?" fretted the first.

"Doubtful. For one thing, they wouldn't show up on our equipment. Besides, only the greatest species would be able to hit us with such force, and who knows if their kind even remains in the world today? If Gyokuro had such a prize, she wouldn't waste them on this….No, she's not that redundant."

Gulps went around the room at the insinuation. The second man voiced the worries of all. "You're thinking the Commander is behind this, then?"

"Who else? She was responsible for the last attempt on our lives, and now that we've escaped, no doubt she's out for blood."

"Hold on a second," Tsukune interjected, commanding instant attention. "You're jumping to conclusions a bit fast, aren't you? I mean, it's been how long since we took off—half the day? We didn't encounter any trouble until now, which means we got away clean. We weren't followed. So how would anyone have known where we were by now? Surely even her range doesn't extend this far?"

Akuha had to ponder that one for a moment, although the time for words over action was quickly dissipating. "She could have put a tracker on us while we were grounded. Not on the hull; she'd know we would have spotted that. It would have to be somewhere on board, while her men were dicking around my vessel. In which case, it could be anywhere…Gah, it doesn't matter now! If it's another ship, we're already on their radar—Ancestors know how they could catch up to us. But we're sitting ducks as long as we're in the air, even with these clouds."

Another thunderous boom, and just outside the window, something streaked by like a dark lightning bolt, nearly grazing the car before vanishing beyond the veil. Whatever it was, they were out of time.

"Red alert, all hands to stations!" Her officers dispersed. To the replacement at the helm, as well as the man at the portside wheel and panels which adjusted the ship's altitude, she shouted orders to descend. "Take us down, full speed."

"B-but, ma'am, we'll lose the cloud cover—!"

"It's not doing us any good anyway. Go on! We'll be in better position once we're on the ground."

Watching the men, it did not surprise Tsukune in the least that there were no further objections. Her orders were absolute.

But no orders could alter the design of the airship: descent would not be quick.

Meantime, Tsukune needed a better vantage point. Those cluttered previously at the rear windows had fanned out, either to participate in the landing or to watch out of the side of the car, and he took up the vacancy in the back. The ship inclined, and he gripped the railing to steady himself. Fortunately, there appeared to be a brief lull in the assault from their pursuers. Perhaps they assumed their opening salvo had done the job…But then, it would only be a matter of time before they decided to investigate, to make certain. _Any minute now, _Tsukune mused, scanning the sky.

Already gloomy, even more natural light trickled from the ship as it broke free of the clouds, diving under the overcast canopy. What people inhabited the region miles below would definitely miss the sun today, he thought.

All was relatively still in the gondola, the only noise the rumble of the engines and the shuffling of the crew as they waited with baited breath. Jittered nerves seemed to infect the ship and excite the air, crackling like electricity.

With ghostly silence, their fears soon came to pass. Like a sea monster breaking through the waves it parted the veil, smooth, cold and elongate: the bow of an airship. Two more followed close on its flanks, filling Tsukune's vision as they emerged from the ethereal strata, each larger by far than the SSO1. Swarming around each, gliding with menacing intent, were flocks of dragons. The same breed as they had possessed, go figure.

"We have a problem!" he loudly announced. All eyes swung his way. Akuha urged on the helmsman and rushed to Tsukune's side.

This was, in fact, his first time observing vessels belonging, presumably, to other Fairy Tale squads. Not a great deal of variation among them – Some different insignia inscribed along the hull in greens and blacks and yellows…And decked out along the sides of their control cars with what appeared alarmingly like primed torpedo tubes.

Akuha swore, and began commanding the crew with her gaze locked on their pursuers. The pilot careened the craft a few degrees left just as the barrage resumed from the first ship, a missile flying past their starboard. Yet there were still other ships, and another missile impacted the hull once again, thundering above their heads.

"More speed, damn it! Two of them are still reloading. We only have a minute before we get hammered again. Full bore to port, now!"

"What, we're just running?!" Tsukune said. "Maybe you have more experience with these situations than me, so I say this with all due respect, but are you nuts? You expect us to just dodge everything until we hit the ground? We'll be blown to pieces before that happens. Look. One, two, three. Three! You think your guy there is good enough outmaneuver everything they throw at us?"

"We have no rear weapons," she snarled through her teeth, "and engaging in a frontal attack would be suicide. These must be new models—I've never seen them before. They have us outgunned, and we'll be shredded before we've even made a full turn-about. Our only option is to trust our smaller volume gives us greater maneuverability."

Her attention was required elsewhere again, and she left Tsukune amidst a gaggle of other Fairy Talers. "Only option, huh?" Not the way he saw it. On almost every side, every which way there was a member of the organization around him. One rapt, anxious ayashi after the next. This was a ship of monsters…Monsters…With ordinary human faces, weapons, and elaborately tailored, form-fitting uniforms. What was wrong with this picture? Knowing now, as he did, that this fell under Akuha's discretion, he couldn't help but flounder in grasping for an explanation. Given the situation, why the hell hadn't she long before now commanded them to change? His imagination was already off and sprinting like a ravenous wolf under the full moon. Among all these creatures, were there no flyers aside from Hayate? None who could sweep towards their pursuers, dive-bombing their own cars and taking out the crew within? None with the speed to evade the dragons and sufficient power to bombard their ships with demonic energy? What use were her troops to her in this state? She didn't even appear to be considering the option, even now, with the situation nearing the pinnacle of desperation.

If nothing was done in the new few moments, everything they were working for would go down in flaming wreckage – A prospect that planted a mad idea in his head. Would it work? Why shouldn't he try? No better opportunity to take advantage of the newfound respect the crew appeared to have afforded him. The absurdity of it all—he, a human of all people—would have to wait.

The only question was…would they listen? Would they see the logic in his words, even to the point of breaking protocol and taking the initiative? Defying their leader's standing orders?

He never had the chance to find out. The ship pitched further down, the man at the elevator wheel tossed like a piece of timber in a storm, and he could not recover fast enough. Their lead chaser fired, a silent shot rocketing toward them. At the last second, the helmsman had listed right by a fraction, but the missile still found its mark on the rear corner of the hangar with an explosive crack.

Already exiled, aboard a stolen ship attempting to flee their former master, now everyone was briefly deafened and shaken to their hearts by the impact. Though not powerful enough to annihilate the entire car, it sent them spinning; a gaping, smoking new hole had been ripped in their stern, like a piece of flesh torn away by the teeth of a predator.

At the moment, the only one near this breach was Tsukune, alone aft of Navigation. Even if he hadn't been clutching his crutch, he had no time or presence of mind to grab hold of something to anchor himself. Reeling from the blast's proximity, he felt his body lifted, heard someone shout his name, a rush of air, and the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to gaze upon the bottom of the damaged ship shrinking up into the sky, its hull pierced in several singed spots. Once again he had found himself swept clean of the ship, dust under a broom, and in heart-seizing freefall.

And once again, consuming terror. As he watched, the ship appeared to right itself, plunging on while the other craft nipped at its heels, hungry to finish off their wounded prey. He wondered if anyone had noticed his untimely exit. Hadn't he heard his name called?

At this point, it did not matter. Nothing for him to catch onto this time. Nor was Hayate anywhere to be seen. _He's not coming. _He hadn't even been with them during the attack.

What was that common saying, he wondered? Your whole life flashes before your eyes just before the end. Oddly enough, he experienced nothing of the sort. Any hope had been dashed, and with a strange, tacit resignation, he let his body turn over, to greet the hard earth rushing up to greet and embrace him.

But the wind pelted his face, and, his senses overwhelmed, his body shut down, and he knew no more.

_To be continued…_


End file.
